Imperium
by LavenderPotato
Summary: N's psyche deteriorates the longer he is alone in his room. His daddy says it's good for him, though. Harmoniashipping.
1. Chapter 1

**If rape and shit offends you, do NOT read this. There isn't anything bad in this first chapter, but I do plan to write porn later.**

**Harmoniashipping, since I just got into it. Hooray and things. **

* * *

There was no telling what time it was. It could've been night, it could've been morning. He couldn't tell without a window. The only light came from a little lamp in the corner, casting shadows over the toys that littered the ground. Trains, toy trucks, a basketball, various pokemon plushes, it was a child's paradise upon first glance.

N sat in a corner by the lamp, wishing it were brighter, but knowing this was as good as it was going to get. Absentmindedly, he played with a truck. Even with all of the toys he had, he still found it was easy to get bored, which made him anxious. He could only play basketball by himself so many times, run around with a toy airplane and pretend he was on a secret mission so many times, trip and fall over stray toys he'd forgotten to pick up so many times before everything seemed like clockwork. Sure, he could pretend he was in the sky. The clouds on his floor made it easy to pretend he was flying. Smiling a little, he ran the truck over a cloud, making a small _vroom _noise through his teeth. Who was to say the truck couldn't fly too? If airplanes could fly, he could pretend the truck could too. Maybe it was a super special truck on a secret mission to rescue someone trapped on a desert island. Maybe the truck could float in the water too, like his toy boats. What if a shark came up and attacked the floating truck? The truck was super, it had weapons on it, it could fight back.

The shark would swim off, and the truck would reach the desert island, N's bed, rescuing the pokemon plushes and swimming back to civilization with them. The mysterious truck had saved everyone.

The people back at home would be glad all of their pokemon had returned safely to them. The truck, whose pilot was N, would be a hero. He had saved everyone.

Picking up a Snivy plush, N abandoned his truck for the other toy, huddling back into the corner next to the lamp, with a blanket wrapped around him and the toy. The toys were his friends, and they were all nice to him, because he was nice to them. He loved them, and they loved him. They were all he had in this big room full of toys with no window and only a lamp lighting everything.

It was N's world.

It's what his daddy said he needed. This was the way things had to be, in order for N to 'understand', like his daddy would say. He would come in sometimes, and give him another toy, and N would be delighted, because it was another friend for him to play with. His room would be lively then, it would be full of things, things that loved him because he loved them back. He would smile at his daddy, taking the toy, whether it was another pokemon plush, another train, or another box of blocks, it made him happy because his daddy loved him too. Bringing him toys meant he loved him, and N was happy to be loved. Very, very happy.

Then the door would close. Locked. The room would be dark again, except for his little lamp in the corner, casting shadows everywhere. N used to be afraid of the dark, but not anymore. Not with all of his toys to protect him from monsters. He could build walls with the blocks, build a house for himself, and stand in the middle with his Tepig and Snivy plushes. They were his bodyguards. They would protect him from monsters while he curled up in the center of the blocks, falling asleep.

Nobody would come in for a long time. He couldn't tell time, because there was no clock or window. It felt like forever to N. He liked it when his door opened to let some more light in, when the cool air from outside the hall would waft in. It made his room seem not so dark.

After what felt like forever, his door would open, a pretty lady with pink hair would walk in, and she would bring him food. She was very nice to him, even though she didn't smile, but he would smile back and thank her for the meal. It always felt like forever before he got to eat, but when he would talk about it, the pretty lady would shake her head and tell him it had only been a couple of hours.

When the food was gone, the plate was removed, then the pretty lady would leave. N would be alone again for a long time.

Sometimes N would cry. And he hated himself for it. Why cry? Didn't daddy give him all these friends so he wouldn't be alone? Wasn't he well-fed? Even when he had to potty, he had his own bathroom, and he got to bathe whenever he wanted to. Daddy always gave him shampoo that smelled like fruit. Still, when the trucks and planes and pokemon plushes no longer held his attention, he would grab his blanket and sink down into the corner next to the lamp and cry.

This was normal, wasn't it? Wasn't this what all little boys did? Didn't everyone's daddy give them lots of toys, and didn't pretty ladies come in to feed them and make sure they were healthy? The tears would not stop. Snivy and Tepig only stared at him with sewn in eyes. No sympathy or life. It made N sad. He would hug and hug onto his toys, loving them because they were his friends and he loved them! They never hugged back.

He wished he could tell time. And had a window. Seeing the trees would make him very happy. Walking and running around outside would make him even happier. And he could take Snivy and Tepig with him. They were his favorites after all. He knew there was an outside. It was a long time ago, but he remembered seeing it. The leaves were the same color as his hair, it smelled nice, it was big, and the sky was pretty.

Maybe the next time his daddy came in, he could ask him about it. It wouldn't hurt to ask, right? Especially since N had been such a good boy. Being in this room all the time, that had to mean he was a good boy.

Huddling into his blanket, N had to smile. What if daddy said yes? N would be very, very happy.

* * *

It felt like years to N before his door opened again and instead of it being the pretty pink-haired lady with food, his father strode in. N had been playing with blocks, this time building separate houses for Snivy and Tepig, but upon seeing his father enter, he almost knocked everything over as he struggled to stand up as fast as he could.

"Daddy!" Nothing could wipe the smile from his face when he ran up to him. His daddy was so tall, it always amazed him when he had to lean his head all the way back just to look at his face. Just like the pretty lady, his daddy never smiled, yet N always seemed to have smiles to spare. It didn't bother him that much. This was just the way everyone was. "Daddy, I've missed you." And it was the truth. When the door opened, light and cool air and comfort always came into his room. It made him happy.

His father never seemed as excited as he always was. Not responding, almost ignoring him, his father instead held out something small and quivering to him. "I've brought you something else. This is not a toy, though, N."

N could feel his eyes grow wide when his attention was brought to the quivering black ball of fur in his father's hands.

Curious when it was held down to him, N poked it, jumping back when a head emerged and made a sound he couldn't distinguish. "Daddy..."

"It's a pokemon, N. A real one. It's a Zorua."

"Zo-roo-ah?" Intrigued, he poked it again, not expecting it when the pokemon responded by hissing, lashing out and scratching his hand, jumping out of his father's hands and dashing under N's bed. Looking at his hand that was gushing blood in horror, N's initial reaction was to cry. He'd never been hurt before. And it hurt and it was bleeding and-

His daddy looked mad, not offering him any kind of comfort as N cradled his bleeding hand. "This will teach you about the world, N." And N was only half paying attention, still trying to stop crying. "People are cruel to pokemon like that. It hates you. Are you going to be like those people outside of this castle? Are you going to be cruel to pokemon too?"

The stinging was stopping, as were N's tears. He looked up at his daddy, trying to figure out what this all meant. It hated him? "N-no. I don't want to be mean to anyone." Sniffling, he wiped at his face with his clean hand, trying to get rid of the tears. "I want to be nice to everyone."

"That Zorua was hurt by its owner. We rescued it. It's suffering right now, N. I'm giving it to you so you can save it."

Save it? Turning back, all of N's tears dried when he spotted the Zorua under his bed, one of its ears sticking out from under his blanket. This was a real pokemon, a real one. Another friend, just like Snivy and Tepig, and it hated him.

Still focused on the hiding Zorua, N nodded to his father. "I want it to like me. I want to save it." He was smiling now. If he gave it time and was really nice to it, the Zorua would like him and they could be friends.

Just as his father began to walk back out the door and lock N in with the pokemon, N whirled around, suddenly remembering what he'd been dying to ask. "Daddy!" He almost tripped when he reached forward to grab his father's long robes. His father stopped walking. "Daddy, I forgot I wanted to ask you something." It was about to burst out of him, he had never been so anxious or excited before. "Can I go outside?"

And it was obvious that was the wrong thing to say.

Turning so fast, the robes were wrenched from N's grip, his father gave him a hard stare and N couldn't figure out the expression on his face. "Outside?"

Now N felt as if he had a huge weight pressed on his chest. Was daddy mad? "Y-yes sir."

The only sound then were the robes squishing when his father bent down to get face-level with him, one of his arms extending from the folds of his clothes and pressing against N's now hot face. "You mean to tell me I brought you a new friend, a real one this time, and you're so selfish as to ask me something like that?" His hand moved up and down his son's face.

N felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. "I-I-" Just the words were ripping at him, hurting like the scratch on his hand. Daddy was mad.

"I've given you everything, N. All of this shit in your room, all these god damn toys and you have everything. And now that I've given you more, you're still so selfish? You disgust me."

There were no more words as his daddy stood and walked out, slamming the door this time, making the pokemon under the bed squeak in fright.

N stood, his knees wobbly, and fresh tears fell, eyes never leaving the door. Everything felt like it hurt now. The scratches stung, his body ached, his head hurt, his eyes burned.

N had made daddy angry, and that made him a very bad boy.

* * *

**I like to build up to things. I get more attached that way. Which means this is only going to get worse. **


	2. Chapter 2

******Thanks to the people on tumblr who read this.**

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It felt like forever that N had been huddled into the corner of his room, trying to stop crying. He felt weak when he cried, but he couldn't help it. Daddy was mad at him, because N had been a bad boy. No, he didn't want daddy mad at him. Daddy was nice, and he was right. N was selfish, very selfish. Everything had been given to him on a silver platter, but he still wanted more. No wonder daddy never smiled at him. It was all N's fault.

The room was getting cold, but N couldn't bring himself to stand up and grab his blanket. This was his punishment, he deserved to be cold. N was a bad boy, a very bad boy. He didn't deserve to sleep in his bed tonight. Or whatever time of day it was. N slept when he was tired and right now, he was sleepy.

The Zorua was still hiding under his bed, not that N was paying much attention to it. Every now and then, he would lift his head from his arms, spotting the small pokemon peeking out from under his blanket. Even in the dim light, he could see one of its large ears had a huge hole in it, like something took a bite out of it or cut it off. Had its owner done that? How cruel. N couldn't even imagine how someone could be so mean.

Every time N lifted his head to stare at the pokemon, it would dive back under his bed. It was almost sad, but N didn't want it to hate him, so he gave it its space. Let it come out on its own. There was no need to push it, especially since it was scared.

It gave N time to focus on his punishment. He hated being like this, he just wanted daddy to love him, and he had made him angry. It was surprising that he was able to keep all of his toys. They were given to him out of love, and he had spat at it. N was a bad boy.

Shivering, N curled into a tighter ball, his head still buried in his arms. The tears had finally stopped, but he still felt sick. What he wanted was for daddy to come in and tell him it was okay, N's punishment was over, and that he loved him. That would never happen. Nobody in this place even smiled at him, there was no way that would ever happen. It made him a little sad knowing he would never hear his daddy tell him he loved him. N loved his daddy very, very much. He wanted to be just like him when he grew up. Tall, nice to everyone, and save pokemon, just like him.

There was something warm brushing against his leg and N lifted his head, feeling groggy. He must've fallen asleep sitting that way. After yawning and wiping his eyes, he spotted the Zorua pacing in front of him, its tail brushing against his leg. Its eyes never left his as it paced back and forth.

A small ball of excitement welled up inside him. Did this mean his punishment was over? Was the pokemon finally getting more comfortable in his room?

"Hi." His voice was raspy from crying, but he smiled. "My name is N."

Still, the pokemon stared at him, like it was studying him, sizing him up, trying to figure out if he was a threat or not. Now that it was up close to him, N could make out distinguishable red marks on its body. Patches of fur were missing on its tail, one of its eyes looked like it had film over it, yet it stared at him.

He had to make it see he was nice, N was a good boy. "I won't hurt you. Did your owner do that to you? You're okay now. You have to stay in my room, because that's what daddy says, but you'll like it in here. We can do anything." As if it understood, the Zorua seemed to relax a little, now cocking its head at him. It stopped pacing.

Swallowing, N wanted to pet it. What if it scratched him again? He wanted to pet it though, he wanted to show it he was nice. Why would it have come close to him if that meant it wasn't getting more comfortable with him?

Biting his lip, N reached forward, being as gentle as he could when he ran his hand down its back. He could feel its spine and it made him cringe, but the Zorua stayed, it didn't show any signs of attacking him.

That made N smile and he continued patting it, being slow, being gentle.

The room wasn't cold anymore.

* * *

It was a long time since then. N couldn't remember, but he was reading now. His clothes were getting too small for him and he had to curl into a ball to fit onto his bed now. His hair was getting longer. The rare times when his daddy would come in, he never said anything about it, so to get it out of the way, N would tie it back. He didn't really like long hair. It got in the way when he played with Zorua.

Since then, Zorua had become really attached to him. It no longer hid under his bed or stared at him like he would hit it at any moment, and N was happy it trusted him now. As much as he loved his Snivy and Tepig plushes, Zorua would follow him around, even to the bathroom (which he found a little awkward at first because it would stare at him while he peed), and curl up under the blankets with him. It was always really warm and comforting, a comfort neither Snivy nor Tepig nor any other toy could give him.

N didn't think he could live without Zorua right next to him everyday. He'd gotten more attached to the pokemon than he ever thought he would. Everywhere he went, Zorua wasn't far behind, not that there were many places to go in his room.

To catch up on his reading, N found it was fun to snuggle up with Zorua at night and read a book to it, even if it didn't understand. One book he kept coming back to was one about a girl who had been locked in a tower with no way out, but a prince would ride by everyday and the girl would let down her really long hair, letting the prince come up.

The story would make him a little sad sometimes. Because the girl and the prince were seeing each other in secret, but when the girl's mother found out, she cut the girl's really long hair and sent her away. When the prince returned, the mother pushed him from the tower and it blinded him.

But the ending was happy. The prince found the girl and they had kids and lived happily ever after.

N liked books that had happy endings, but he couldn't help but be confused every time he closed the book and Zorua would snuggle next to him and doze off. The girl in the book had disobeyed her mother, and she was punished for it, by having all of her hair cut off and cast away. N liked the book because the girl, like him, was told she had to stay in her room all day, everyday. But at least she had a window to look out of. N didn't even have that. And the girl got in trouble because out of her window, she could see the prince. Did daddy not let him have a window so nobody could come into his room?

The girl had been bad, so her mother threw her out and never wanted to see her again. It made N a little sad to think about it. He had been a bad boy, and he hadn't seen his daddy that much since Zorua was given to him. Would daddy throw him out if he were a bad boy? N loved his daddy, he didn't want to make him angry anymore.

Setting the book down next to his bed, N snuggled under the covers with Zorua, enjoying the warmth it gave him before falling asleep.

* * *

The next time N awoke, he heard the sound of his door creaking open and instantly sat up in bed. Anytime his door opened, he was happy. Even with Zorua by his side to keep him company, having light and fresh air was welcome anytime in his room.

He expected to see the pink-haired lady with food, not- "Daddy?"

Zorua yawned by him, stretching and leaning against him as his daddy crossed the floor, kicking stray toys out of the way. "Your room is dirty."

N could feel the familiar weight of guilt press onto him. The room wasn't clean because he hadn't expected daddy to come. Daddy never visited him much anymore. "I-I didn't know you would be coming."

All he could see now was his father's shadow as he stopped walking, now just a few steps away from the bed. "Excuse me?" And even N could hear the anger in his voice. No, no, no, he was supposed to be a good boy. Daddy wasn't supposed to be angry at him. N was so stupid.

Staring up at him, N tried to make out his father's face in the darkness. "I-I" And he just couldn't stop stuttering. That weight he felt only got heavier. "I didn't clean bec-cause-" Daddy was angry again. Why couldn't N do anything right.

"I should take away everything in your room. Your only excuse is you didn't know when I'd be coming in?"

Heart pounding in his ears, it took all of N's willpower not to cry again. He hated it when daddy was mad at him. Please, don't let daddy be mad. N was a good boy! "N-no sir. I mean-yes sir." N's eyes were focused on the patterns in his father's robes. He couldn't even look at him anymore.

"I shouldn't have to put up with this. This room should be spotless whether I come in or not." As he spoke, his father looked down at his feet where N's Tepig plush lay and he picked it up. Almost smiling, his father held it in both hands, making sure N saw. "I came to tell you it's your birthday, N. You're turning 8 today. That's why I gave you Zorua, because you're growing up. Soon you're going to be king, and you can leave this room. But not before you learn certain things." The toy was gripped tight. "You're too old to be playing with toys like this." With one quick motion, the toy was ripped in two, stuffing falling to the floor.

N couldn't even comprehend what just happened. No, he didn't much play with Tepig and Snivy anymore, but. But he still loved them. All he could concentrate on was the Tepig as his father dropped it, stepping on it and ripping it to even more shreds. Tears fell, and N could do nothing to stop him. Why? Tepig, he-

Suddenly pain to the side of his face and N didn't realize at first that his father had slapped him. His cheek was on fire and N's hand shot up, cupping it, crying harder. Why? Why would daddy- Daddy was mad, he was mad, N was sorry, he-!

"You fucking baby, look at you. You're a big boy, N. Big boys don't cry and they certainly don't play with toys anymore, yet even though I've given you the Zorua, you're still so determined to spit on everything I give you? I gave you all of these things, N, so I'm perfectly allowed to take them back when I feel you've outgrown them. But if you seem so adamant about being a child, maybe I should take Zorua, too."

Reaching forward, Zorua was scooped up into his arms and N found himself screaming when Zorua squeaked in fright, clawing and biting the arms that held it. "NO! DADDY, NO, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY PLEASE!" Leaping from the bed, N grabbed at his father's robes, begging pleading with everything in his body. "DADDY, PLEASE, I'M SORRY! YOU'RE RIGHT, I'LL BE A GOOD BOY, I'M SORRY! DON'T TAKE ZORUA!" N couldn't live without Zorua. He would die if daddy took it.

Without a word, his father finally dropped Zorua who scrambled to its feet when it landed ungracefully onto its back, and dashed under N's bed. It whimpered in fright.

N could feel his racing heart start to slow. Daddy didn't take Zorua, he didn't take it, it's okay, was repeated over and over in his head. Everything was okay.

His daddy bent down, grabbing his face, making his cheek that had been hit earlier sting. "You've been a bad boy, N. I'm bringing someone in to take all of your toys away. You thought you were bored before, you know nothing. A king does not play with children's toys, N. If you're going to be king one day, you have to know these things. A king has responsibilities, and a king knows pain." With that said, N felt like his face was on fire when his father struck him a second time, sending his head lolling to the side. Nothing but confusion ran through him. Why was daddy hitting him? "You've seen Zorua's scars. That's nothing like a slap, N. You have to understand that."

More tears, and they only stung his face more. N was hurting so much, just make it stop.

His daddy released him, standing up. "Do you understand?"

Nodding, N couldn't look at him. He was bad, very bad. "Yes sir."

The door slammed shut, trapping him in darkness. N didn't remember his daddy leaving his side, but he was grateful for him to be gone. No, that was wrong. N loved his daddy, but- Daddy had made him hurt, because N had disobeyed him. Babies cried, N wasn't a baby anymore. Daddy loved him, he did, he _did_.

Sinking to the floor, the tears continued to fall, and N winced as they ran over his face, burning. It was his fault. Daddy hated him. All his fault.

Warm fur rubbed against his leg and N reached out, sobbing, choking, trying to stop, because he was being a baby, and hugged Zorua. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Over and over, maybe saying it would make things better, but he knew it wouldn't. His face hurt because he was a baby, all of his toys were going to be taken away because that's what stupid babies played with.

Zorua laid its head against his chest as he sobbed. Maybe it was his imagination, he couldn't tell. He hoped it wasn't though. Through his sobs, he thought he heard Zorua speak.

_'I love you.'_

* * *

**N's Rapunzel book is based on the one I had when I was little. Not the disney movie.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay yeah, you finally get a little bit of porn in this.**

* * *

N didn't know how to feel when things began to change. All he'd ever known were the toys in his room, the trains on the tracks, his trucks lying around, his stuffed animals staring at him with button, lifeless eyes, the plane that flew over his head, attached with a string to the ceiling, lulling him to sleep with its circular motion. It was his world, everything he'd ever known about anything. The trucks were meant to be pushed along the floor, like they were flying over the clouds. The pokemon plushes were placed on his bed, snuggled next to him and Zorua when they would sleep. The plane would go around and around and around.

Ever since he could remember, this had been life. Fragments of memories would recall a place like outside. Green trees, grass on the ground, the sky-what color was the sky? The clouds on his floor were white. The sky was blue. His lamp was so dim, it was getting too dark in his room to tell the colors anymore. But N wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. Babies were scared of things like that, and N was no longer a baby. His lamp had been turned on for as long as he could remember, it was no surprise that the light bulb was finally flickering and dimming.

But what about outside? Was it brighter out there? His memories wanted to say yes, yes it was, so bright, so very bright and warm and big-but he couldn't remember. When had he come to live in this room? The memories of outside would leave him everyday, and it made him sad.

N didn't want to forget. It was his goal, to get back to that warmth. Because daddy-because dad said that when he grew up and became king, he could leave the room. The room was his training ground, and he had to stay here until his dad deemed him a suitable king. If N were to be a good king, a hero to his people, he had to stay here, and learn his lessons. It's what dad said was good for him, so he had to trust him. And N did trust his dad.

And he wanted to go out. N wanted to breathe fresh air, smell the scent of trees, feel his toes touch the grass-what did it feel like? What did the trees smell like? He couldn't remember anymore.

Slowly but surely, N was forgetting everything.

The outside world, the smallest, but most primitive and prominent of his memories was being replaced with toys. Trains, stuffed pokemon, planes, basket balls. N had grown into the life with his toys, because dad gave them to him, to keep him occupied since he couldn't read yet, telling him that when he grew older, he would be taught to read by Concordia, and that he would be smart.

Now that everything had been taken away, N felt empty and alone, even with Zorua there beside him on the bed, snuggled next to him and keeping him warm. It was strange for him to look up from the clouds on the floor and look around his room, completely empty from every corner, save for his nightstand, bed, and the books that cluttered his bed. He had to read. Reading would make him smart. That's what dad said. So N had to do it, because dad loved him and knew what was best for him.

He wanted to smile when he picked up a book to begin reading. He wanted so bad to believe this was going to make him a smart person, a good king. He _had _to. N was growing up, he had to do these things. It's what was best for him, because dad said so.

And he hated himself. Because still. _Still_. After everything. After two years of being in a completely empty room with nobody but Zorua to keep him company, N would cry.

The books taught him many things. There was one about pokemon, about the different kinds of them, and how to tell their genders. That's how he found out Zorua was a girl, and it made him happy. Because he was getting smarter. He wouldn't have been able to find that out if it weren't for the book. Zorua seemed to be glad she wasn't being called an it anymore. That made N happy, too. One book taught him how to count, what numbers were, and how to use those numbers to figure out equations. He found it a little odd that he would actually enjoy immersing himself into the book, scribbling numbers onto a piece of paper and smiling in delight when he looked back at the book and realize he'd gotten the answer right.

Books like these were studied and read everyday. N hated some of them. Like the science book. It was so boring for him, he would fall asleep reading it. The fairy tale books were worn out from being read so much. Even now, N would curl up beside Zorua and read her a story every night before they fell asleep.

Even with the feeling that he was getting smarter, learning things, growing up, N felt empty. Always empty. No matter how many equations he solved or how many pokemon he identified in his book, or how many times he would fall asleep reading the science book, there was something missing. There was always something missing.

The room was empty. N still missed playing with his toys. One of the highlights of his day was getting to roll a truck around on his floor, pretending it was a submarine and saving a water pokemon. Zorua would chime in too, yipping at the truck and diving under N's bed when he would pretend to honk the horn at her. Even if it was a 'submarine', it was still partially a truck, in N's mind anyway.

Now that was all gone. N's world was changing, and he hated it. He missed his toys, no matter how many times he told himself over and over that he wasn't a baby, he still missed everything.

Would his world continue to change? Would dad take his books away when N got older? What then? N was already attached to his books. He didn't want his stories taken away, or the book full of numbers. And even though he didn't care for the science book, he still felt like it would be wrong for everything to be taken away.

His empty room was wrong. The missing toys were wrong. But. Dad said it was all right. This was what growing up was about. N had to accept it, because that's what a good king did. A good king was kind, brave, smart, and loving of all of his subjects. A king did not play with toys.

It made him a little sad.

But he had to keep telling himself that it would all be worth it. Because even though he missed his toys very much, N missed the outside world even more. And when he grew up, he would get to go outside again, and it would be beautiful and better than he remembered. N knew it.

* * *

It was very cold when N's door opened and his father strode in, smiling for once, something N was sure he had never seen before. And it frightened him a little bit. Dad never smiled. Never. Zorua dived under his bed. She always did when he came in.

"Today is your birthday, N." That smile was wrong, no, no, dad never smiled. His words sounded false. N was scared. "Do you know how old you are today?"

It took a second for N to realize he'd been asked a question. Dad liked quick answers, so N stuttered trying to spit it out. "Y-yes sir. I'm 10 years old, dad." And it hurt a little that dad had hit him once for calling him daddy. Babies say daddy, he'd said. You're not a baby anymore. N hated it when he was hit.

The smile widened, and N felt his heart race. What did this mean? It was so foreign to him. No, it was all wrong, like his empty room. Why did things keep changing? It was _wrong_...

His eyes fell over the papers scribbled with equations and numbers. "Good boy. I see you've been studying. That's good. The more you study, the more books I'll bring to you. Won't that make you happy, N? A room full of books?"

Dad was nice. Dad was right about everything. N loved him. So he smiled. "Yes sir." He wasn't scared anymore, he couldn't be. Dad loved him, the smile was wrong, but N shouldn't be scared. Books were good. Toys were bad.

Then dad sat next to him on the bed, making the end N was sitting on rise up. "Come here." N knew better than to disobey or talk back. It was his fault if he were slapped or punched or kicked. But dad only did that because he loved him, and N deserved it.

Scooting next to his father, N let his legs dangle off the side of the bed, still too short to actually reach the floor. Would he ever get taller? He hoped so. N wanted to be big and tall, just like dad.

A swoosh of his father's clothes from behind and N found his robes being wrapped around him, pulling him closer to his father's body. Instinctively, N was frightened, because this wasn't normal. No, dad wouldn't do this, dad was always distant and the only contact he made with N was when N was bad and he had to hit him. Not-this. Not meaning to, N pushed away, driven by fright and a desire for things to go back to the way they were.

"N, don't you push away like that." Just as soon as he had done it, N was pulled back, held tighter than before.

That was that. If his dad had said it, N had to obey. It hurt a little, in his stomach, it made him sick, but then at the same time, he was happy to do it, because making dad happy would make him happy. N wanted his dad proud of him. "Yes sir. I'm sorry. I'm just..." No, no, no, no, he wasn't supposed to say anything. N had messed up, no. Please, he was sorry, he didn't mean to.

"You're just what, N?" The arm around him pulled tighter and N thought he was going to be crushed to death. Even without seeing his face since his eyes were glued to his father's robes, a place he found himself staring at a lot to avoid his gaze, N could tell the smile was gone.

"I-I'm sorry, dad-" N found himself being pushed away this time, instead of constricted, and-relief? Because this was how things were supposed to be, but no, that was wrong. Dad was mad. Oh N was so stupid. Stupid, stupid. There were going to be hits and kicks and punches and _dad would bite him and burn him and-_

Flinching, it was pure instinct, the reaction N had learned from years of this, and he couldn't help it. His father's hand was balled up and it slammed into N's side, making him cough and gag, trying to catch his breath.

And that's all. Just one punch. Maybe N hadn't done anything that bad after all. Even though he deserved this, it always scared him. It was natural to be afraid of pain, wasn't it? Wasn't N's fear just. Being human? Was daddy-dad ever afraid? If he was, he never showed it. N wanted to be fearless, to not flinch when he was hit, to not cry out when he was burned, to not choke and retch and spam when his blood was cut from him. What if dad went too far one day? That always scared N. As much as dad loved him, just what if he went too far and killed him? It always frightened N to his core, so bad, he wanted to vomit to release all of the horrible feelings and thoughts. Because this was normal, it had to be, daddy loved him, he did.

"That's one of the things I came to talk to you about, N. You're growing up. Everyday you spend in this room is a day you grow. You've learned that little boys play with toys and you are not a little boy anymore. You're learning that mature men, like you're striving to be, read books and are smart and wise. I've made you stop calling me daddy and it's time you stopped calling me dad too."

O-oh no. The bile was rising in N's throat. It was just more change, and he couldn't take it. No, he missed his toys, he missed saying daddy and-and no. Please, he hated change, he hated it! Please, give him back his toys, he wanted to play some more! It was driving him insane.

Looking up, his side still sore from being punched, he stared into his father's red eyes, still seeable even in the dim light. And N couldn't help it. "D-daddy-"

He hadn't meant to. Daddy punched him in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor, coughing, trying to catch his breath. No, no, he was going to be beaten, daddy was going to-!

A foot was pressed to his back, stomping him down onto the floor and N choked, trying to breathe. Fear, fear, N was scared! "You're a fucking disgrace, N. You sicken me." His foot was pressed harder and N couldn't help it. Crying out, he let it all out. _Because no more toys, no more daddy_, no more anything that ever was. All there was was change now. And N couldn't get used to it. Every fiber of his being told him to suck it up, grow up, this was best for him, he was only hit because he was loved, but N couldn't take it anymore. And so he sobbed. Pressing his head to the floor, giving up, N cried like a baby as his dad's foot ground into his back.

Through his cryings and wails, N could hear his father speak again. "Shut up, N." He couldn't help it. The tears kept coming and he couldn't breathe and- The sobs were controlling him now. No amount of screaming in his head for it to stop was helping. The foot was lifted from his back, aimed for his side and slammed into it, knocking him over from his stomach.

Holding his hands up to protect his face, N continued to cry, expecting more kicks, expecting everything, but not wanting to deal with it. There were more kicks, almost unfelt when they collided into him, there were so many, making his body ache and his brain scream at him to fucking do something, _you're going to die_!

"DADDY, I'M SORRY! NO, NO, DAD-I-PLEASE, PLEASE, I LOVE YOU!"

Still sobbing, N couldn't stop. It was becoming frustrating, because he wanted this to be over, he wanted daddy to love him again. He tried, he tried so hard to stop crying and to make daddy stop kicking him and nothing ever worked, it never worked, N was going to die this time. And it would be all his fault. Pain, pain, from every inch of his curled up body, N could feel every kick now. Because he wanted it to stop, it felt like it lasted forever, a kick to his legs, his back, his head. And it hurt so much, he could only sob.

It stopped. Finally, it finally stopped. N couldn't remove his arms from his face. Not wanting to see his father's angry glare, he hid in hopes of protecting himself, even a little.

Not a word was said, not a sound made, but N knew even as he hid his face that his father was still standing over him, breathing hard, waiting for the next moment to strike.

N had to take that opportunity. "I-I'm sorry. What-" Swallowing, because his throat was so dry. "What do you want me to do? I'm sorry. It's my fault." It was his fault. All N's fault. Daddy hit him because he loved him, and it was N's fault.

Still no words from his father's end, and N feared another attack. Instead, he felt his father's large hands grab his arms, yanking them away from his face, and N tried, but couldn't contain the yelp he made. His face was slapped for it, his father still not saying a word. A king knew pain, a king dealt with pain. A king was strong for his people.

N was thrown to the bed, still shaking, still hurting and aching and-a sickening feeling when he noticed splotches of blood from open wounds on his arms and legs. They stung.

Finally, the other spoke. "You've disappointed me, N." He couldn't look at him. N was a disgrace. A stupid, stupid fucking disgrace of a king. Why did his daddy even keep him around? N was garbage. Yet daddy loved him enough to keep him. Yes, he loved him. "You're no longer going to call me father or dad or 'daddy', do you understand?" The way the word 'daddy' was said made N's stomach knot up. It was condescending, in every way. N was so stupid.

But he nodded, saying, "Yes sir." Like he'd been taught.

"You are not my son. You fucking stupid little piece of shit. You're going to grow up to be king, N. A king, yet while I run myself ragged trying to teach you everything you need to know, you're still so immature about it. You whine for your toys, you whine when you can't use pathetic titles, you whine when anything different happens. A king does not whine, N. And a king like you certainly has no right to be my son anymore."

It felt like every single slap, punch, kick, burn, cut, every little thing or anything his father had ever done to him was like nothing anymore.

The outside was forgotten, the trees, the sky, the grass. Tepig, Snivy, all of his trucks and planes and trains were wiped from his mind. All of the times he had been slapped for insubordination, kicked because he paused for too long before answering, burned for crying, it was nothing anymore. Nothing in the world could compare to what his father just said. It was crushing him on the inside, and N couldn't cry anymore. Not physically.

Daddy hated him.

But. N couldn't do anything. He had no choice. If this is what needed to happen, N had to let it happen. There was no way around it, no possible, physical, emotional way around it anymore. N thought he had been dealing with everything, but he hadn't. Not yet, he hadn't adapted, because he couldn't, because daddy loved him so much, he was sure this would never happen.

Staring down at his feet, all N could do was say, "Yes sir," and be obedient. There were no more feelings. Only numbness. There never was an outside. There were never toys in this room. N never had a daddy who hit him. There was only now and the stab of pain he felt penetrate his insides, there was only hatred now, because N was so stupid, he had messed up everything. Everything.

"If you must address me, you will call me by my name, do you understand?"

It hurt, it hurt so much, and he wasn't being hit or yelled at-but it still hurt. Tears fell, but N didn't feel them, or notice them. Obedient, that's all he knew how to be. "Yes, Ghetsis."

He just wanted to sleep for a very long time. N wanted to wake up, and have this entire horrible incident be just some ugly nightmare. But he knew that wouldn't happen. It never did. This was always reality. It was all his fault.

"You almost made me forget." It wasn't even registered when Ghetsis slowly slid down on the bed next to him again, wrapping his arm around N again, just like the first time. N didn't feel it this time, or move, or think. "Your birthday present is a special lesson tonight, N. I'm going to teach it to you personally. Being wise is one of the most important things of being a king, but so is learning to give your people what they want."

Something foreign was happening. No, N couldn't think right now. He didn't want to feel anymore because it hurt too much. There were no tears left to cry, no more feelings to feel, he just wanted to sleep. Everything was changing.

Ghetsis's robes were pulled away to reveal his pants underneath them, and then he grabbed N's limp hand, but N couldn't feel. The tears that fell were automatic now, but inside N wasn't there. He was far off in another world where daddy loved him.

"A good king gives people what they want, N. Do you understand?"

Obedient, robotic. "Yes, Ghetsis."

It was a strange feeling when Ghetsis kissed his hand. It was too soft, and it made N's world spiral back to reality. In his reality, there were no gentle anythings. There were no hugs or goodnight kisses or I love yous. There was only pain. The familiar feeling of his stomach sinking pulled him back when he realized-daddy was kissing his hand. That was not normal, b-but N couldn't do anything. If he didn't like it, then that was too damn bad. Still, he winced, trying to be still, trying to please Ghetsis. He didn't want to be hurt anymore.

"Good boy. Very good boy." Ghetsis opened his mouth, pulling N's small hand to it and licked his fingers. N was horrified. No, this was-no, no. Why was daddy doing this-why, _why_? The tears were coming back, but Ghetsis wasn't saying anything about them. Like he didn't care anymore, and N could feel his entire body go stiff as his father sucked on his fingers. This wasn't normal-but it was because daddy was doing it. It was, it was. N had to be good. N didn't want to be hurt anymore.

Finally his fingers were removed, his wrist still held in Ghetsis's grip, and it was moved to his pants where Ghetsis released him. "Undo it."

Confused, but compliant, N did as he was told, trying to block out the horror growing in his stomach. It was making him sick, but he kept telling himself it was okay, it would be okay, because- The buckle was pried apart, N shrinking back as soon as he finished it. He didn't like this, he-

Again, his wrist was snatched up, and there was no where he could run with daddy's arm wrapped around him. Even if he did run, Ghetsis would catch him. N didn't want to think what he would do if that ever happened. "You're being a good king, N." N wasn't used to hearing Ghetsis speak with such a gentle tone. Why was he doing this all of a sudden? It frightened him, it was wrong, very, very wrong. "You're going to give this to me, because you will be my king one day too. And a good king appeals to his people."

Something hard was pressed to N's hands as his father manipulated him, moving his hand down to his pants. Bile rose, but N bit it down. Because this was okay, it was okay. He wasn't scared, he wasn't. His hand was forced to move over and over the thing until it grew harder and Ghetsis ordered him to wrap his hand around it. When that happened, N heard his father make noises he'd never heard before. Pants, stifled grunts, strained gasps of air. W-what was happening?

"Harder."

N listened, because he was a good king. For once, he was grateful for his lamp to be so dim. He didn't want to see what was so hard and big in his hand, or why his daddy was making those noises. Closing his eyes, he continued to listen, just wishing for it to be over.

"Nn-harder, god dammit."

Nervous, N's hand began to tremble as he listened. Why was he doing this? It scared him when Ghetsis thrust into his hand, mumbling 'fuck' over and over. N was terrified. He just wanted this to be over so he could go to bed and snuggle with Zorua. But he listened. The louder Ghetsis moaned, the more he could tell what he was doing was right.

It felt like forever. N didn't know what to think. This was something new, just more change he was forced to deal with every single day. Would Ghetsis make him do this every night? It made N feel dirty, because there was just something not right about those noises his daddy made. It made him feel small and-wrong. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Then, Ghetsis threw his head back, letting out another loud moan, and N felt something sticky gush into his hand, and he reared his arm back in fright, eyes falling to his hand at the strange white substance coating his fingers. It terrified him, it was dirty, _he was scared_.

Both of Ghetsis's arms were wrapped around him, trapping N more than he ever felt in his life. He couldn't cry anymore. He couldn't feel pain anymore. All he could think of now was how scared he was, and how he just wanted Ghetsis to leave. Even if it was wrong, because daddy knew what was best for him, N couldn't take it anymore.

"N..." His father's voice was strangely distant. N was too tired to think anymore about change. The robes tied around his body were warm, and he had been cold. Sleep was all he wanted right now, just to leave reality for awhile, because it hurt too much, and dream of love, of daddy's love.

Everything from before seemed so miniscule and simple. Now, here and now, it was so new and confusing. N wanted to deal with it and be a man, he did. A good king could deal with everything. The good and the bad.

Everything N knew was to listen to daddy. But daddy hated him now, and N wasn't even allowed to call him that anymore. If he was to be told to call him Ghetsis, that's what N had to do. Because to avoid the pain and suffering, N had learned listening to everything Ghetsis told him made things better. If Ghetsis told him to do this every night, then that's what N would have to do.

Because deep down, Ghetsis loved him. He knew it.

There was always going to be change, but N had to live through it. Reality was a nightmare, reality was fear and pain and tears. It was love.

N could feel himself slip away as he was wrapped in those robes. The warmth was comforting, to say the least. And he had made daddy happy, right? When Ghetsis was happy, N was happy as well.

N finally saw black as he fell away into sleep, wrapped in his daddy's arms.

* * *

**Emilie Autumn's 'the art of suicide' is excellent inspiration for this fic.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yes.**

* * *

N dreamed of trees. Of grass, wind. Smells. Sleep was always comforting, and the only place he felt-safe. That was wrong, wasn't it? He knew he was safe in his room, with his books, with Zorua. But every time he fell asleep and dreamed of flying, or driving a truck through water, or just running through grass, N woke up with a feeling of dread stabbing through his stomach. Because in the dreams, he could vividly see himself smiling, laughing, swimming through the water or flying through the sky. It felt good. He was content.

But when his eyes opened, his mind finally snapping back to reality, his room coming into view, Zorua's warm body breathing next to him, N wanted to cry. He hated himself for it, for preferring the life he had in his dreams over the life he had in his room. But it was always the same feeling, the feeling of the inevitable. The feeling that daddy would be back. He would barge through the door like he always did, slamming it behind him. There would be nowhere for N to run, there never was anywhere he could run. It was always the same.

Ghetsis's visits had become more frequent over the past several months. It had become routine, something N had to get used to. N found it was a lot easier to get used to seeing his daddy every other day, rather than having his possessions taken away from him. He looked forward to seeing Ghetsis, he did. Every time the door would open, he would greet daddy with a smile, even though his stomach hurt, it didn't matter because _daddy was here. _

Ghetsis's visits were predictable, something that was much easier to cope with than the random bouts of anger. As long as N listened and did as he was told, Ghetsis was nice to him. He had learned the hard way, but it had been beaten into him nonetheless.

If Ghetsis wanted his room spotless, N was happy to clean it. If he wanted Zorua shut up into the bathroom while he sat down on his son's bed and forced him to pull his pants down, N had no choice. If he wanted him to yank on that thing over and over and over again, N was to say "Yes sir" and comply without question. It hurt less to obey. Even with every fiber of his being telling him no, even when every part of him wanted to pause and to please, _make this stop_, N had no choice. It scared him at first, because it was change, and it was new. Very new. Something he couldn't understand, or wanted to understand, and it scared him every single time his daddy would throw his head back and moan again and again when N would pull on that thing. Not understanding why it was happening was just another way for N to cope. He didn't want to know what it meant, or why his daddy wanted him to do it every time he came into his room.

All N knew is that this was his schedule now, and when Ghetsis came in, N assumed position. He dropped whatever he was doing, greeted his daddy with a smile, and pulled his pants down to give him what he wanted.

As long as N complied, Ghetsis was stable. If N flinched or paused or even gave him a look that showed he was scared, N was beaten for it.

He knew it was because he was bad. Ghetsis had told him countless times before, "You're a bad boy, N. A very bad boy. I only hurt you because it's necessary for you to become king. You have to learn this. A good king, a good man knows what pain is. This is what Zorua went through, N. You're just like her now." Other times, his words weren't so nice. Ghetsis would scream, pick up books and slam them against the walls, tear the pages out, tell N how fucking _stupid _he was and how much he hated him, that he was an uncontrollable son, a nuisance, a _burden_.

The screams always hurt worse. Not physically, but Ghetsis might as well have punched him for it. At least the physical wounds would heal over time. The words stung like acid, though, and manifested in him. They never went away, not completely. N would hear them over and over again when he lie awake at night. It would hurt his stomach, make his heart pound in his ears and he would cry because it hurt so much, even though daddy hadn't hit him yet.

He was a burden. He was stupid. Daddy was disappointed in him, and N found that was worse than kicks or punches.

Other times, things were fine. Just fine. Not good or great, but not horrible or scary either. Sometimes, in between Ghetsis's visits, N just sat around in his room, reading his books and playing with Zorua. His room was large enough to allow both of them to run around, so he spent many hours when he was bored of his books playing chase.

It was fun. Just like in his dreams, he would smile, a genuine, happy smile when Zorua came up behind him when she caught him to paw at his leg. It was true happiness when he bent down and picked her up, held her against his chest and told her how much he loved her, over and over.

Just like before, N could hear a voice. _'I love you too.' _Maybe it came from Zorua, maybe it was his imagination, but N hadn't cared for a long time. Because to be loved was all he wanted. Daddy never said it, though N was positive he loved him, it just wasn't daddy's personality. But hearing that soft voice when he lifted Zorua up, laughing, breathing hard from running, hugging onto her, it was the best feeling in the world. Even with her scars and the sight missing from one of her eyes, Zorua seemed more than happy to spend time with N in his room, so why shouldn't he be that happy too?

She was all he had. She was all the love he could have, or ever needed. When times were like this, happy, simple, fun, N could forget about daddy and the scary times he would come through the door.

This was N's schedule for a long time.

It was like time was in suspended animation, but yet N kept growing. He outgrew his shirts, his pants were showing his ankles, his hair was even longer now. Hair was growing in places he wasn't used to, and it scared him at first. Concordia assured him it was something all little boys went through, and that his voice would get deeper eventually as well. Like all new things, it was scary, but having someone there to assure him it was normal made it all better. N had to smile.

Everything that happened to him was normal. Being locked in his room, having his toys taken away, that happened to every little boy, didn't it? Or at least little boys who grew up to be kings like N would be one day.

The stories in his books were always happy. Little boys and girls were told by their mommies and daddies that they were loved, always loved. But N knew these were only fantasy books. Things like that didn't happen in real life. Not in his life, anyway.

But that was okay. Everything was okay. Zorua loved him very much, and N couldn't ask for more. It would be selfish.

If N was counting right, then it wouldn't be too long before he was 14. For his 12th birthday, Ghetsis had given him a clock and a calendar. N could finally tell time. Thanks to his math book, it became easy. It made him really happy to finally be able to tell time, and know what day it was. Even without a window to tell if it was dark or light, N didn't mind much anymore, because the clock always told him which time of day it was, whether he could see or not. It fascinated him, but mostly he was just grateful for it. He could finally do the simplest things like plan his day more accordingly. He could go to bed knowing what time it was, and wake up at the same time everyday. It made his world just a little less claustrophobic.

Now when he sat up in bed, smiling when he saw his clock read 7:00 AM, his lamp now refurbished with a brand new bulb that allowed him to read the calendar hanging on his wall with ease, N smiled because today was his birthday. His birthdays were always special, in some form or fashion, because something new would happen. While it made him a little scared, N couldn't dwell on that. Daddy always brought him something new, whether it was another book, or clothes, or something like his clock and calendar, and it always made him happy to get new things. N was given things because daddy cared about him, and wanted him to be smart when he grew up. Even though N was stupid and a nuisance and a burden, it was okay, because daddy loved him.

The past couple of years had been rather uncomfortable for N. With his body going through so many changes, it made him a little afraid when something would happen he couldn't control. But it was always assured and double assured to him that it was perfectly normal, that both girls and boys experienced changes with their bodies. And all it meant was that he was growing up. He wasn't a little boy anymore, and it made him smile to think about it. He still remembered being short, too short to touch the floor when he sat on the side of his bed, and now he was a lot taller, and still sprouting. Just like he wanted, N was getting taller and taller. Pretty soon, he would be as tall as daddy one day.

It was about 8:00 when N had finished his usual morning routine which involved washing his face, brushing his teeth, combing (or trying to comb) his hair and tying it back behind him, then making sure he had things like soap and shampoo in case he needed to tell Concordia or Anthea. It might've been stupid to anyone else, but having a set schedule and knowing what time it was really made a different to N. He loved setting himself tasks and following them on time. It made him feel organized and productive.

For the rest of the morning, N devoted himself to his books. Many, many books had been brought to him over the years, something he couldn't have been more grateful for, and his mornings were spent doing nothing but reading about everything. Maybe it was silly to think it now, but he couldn't imagine life with toys anymore. It seemed so childish, and he was happy his life was full of books instead. Zorua always curled up next to him as he studied, providing him with the warmth and comfort he was so used to.

Around noon, his door opened, the usual, predictable time Anthea would come in and give him a tray of food before leaving. His breakfast (or technically lunch) always consisted of the same thing: cereal. His growling stomach wasn't about to argue with the same thing everyday, though. Just as long as he had food, N didn't care what he ate. He did wish he got to drink more milk. When he was thirsty, he usually went into his bathroom and drank out of the sink.

Today, instead of just a bowl of soggy cereal set on the tray, there was a purple bottle next to it as well. Confused, N picked it up, turning it over to read the label. Shampoo? He had plenty of that right now, though.

Before he could question, Anthea spoke. "Your father asked me to bring that to you, my lord. He asks that when you take your bath today that you use that. He also asks that your room be cleaned and your books put away for his visit tonight."

Still confused, but not wanting to argue, N nodded, telling her thank you. When Anthea left, he popped open the bottle, forgetting his stomach was craving food right now. But why? Daddy always gave him shampoo that smelled like fruit. Like watermelon. It was the same thing all the time, why would he give him this? Maybe it was just another birthday present? Just more change, but N was more confused about it than anything. When he lifted it to his nose to smell, it was incredibly strong and made him cough. What a strange smell. He turned the bottle over to read the back and see what the fragrance was. Lavender? N had read about that flower in books. So this is what they smelled like. It was strong.

Why would daddy randomly change up his shampoo? Was it because he was growing up and this is what older people bathed with? The bottle was half-empty, which meant it had been used. But by whom?

The more he thought on it, the more it annoyed him when he couldn't think of a clear answer. Even after all this time, he still hadn't learned to just go with things. He always had to question something and ended up frustrating himself over nothing. Who cared if his shampoo was changed? As long as he complied and did whatever Ghetsis told him, N would not be beaten.

The rest of the afternoon was spent solely cleaning his room. It had gotten messy over the past week, and N still only cleaned when Ghetsis visited, despite having been told it should be clean whether or not he visited. But with a calendar now, N was able to predict when his father came in. It usually happened on weekends, a friday night, around 10. That's when he was supposed to pull his pants down and-

Shaking his head, the memories were blocked out as he organized his bookshelf. It was okay though. They weren't necessarily _bad _memories. It was only times when something new would happen, like Ghetsis would ask to be touched a certain way, and if N didn't meet Ghetsis's requirements, he was kicked and punched and screamed at until he did it right. That fell on N's shoulders though. It wasn't daddy's fault. It was always N's.

It took him about two hours to clean his room. Normally, it wouldn't take him this long, but having been told Ghetsis would be coming in tonight, N had to make extra certain his room was as clean as he could get it. Zorua sat on his bed the entire time, staring at him with her one good eye as he ran around frantically putting books in order, throwing away scrap paper and picking up clothes and such from his floor.

_'Why are you cleaning so much?'_

N turned to her as he dug through his closet for a set of clean clothes. Zorua didn't speak much, if this could be considered speaking, but N had stopped questioning it. Besides, when he answered, Zorua continued the conversation. It was nice when she would speak. Though it wasn't often, and he would never force her. "Today is my birthday. I'm turning 14, so Ghetsis wants to come tonight to give me something. It might be more books, or clothes." Pulling out a plain white t-shirt, N threw it to his bed to be worn for later, digging back through the closet for some pants. He was always picky about what he wore. His wardrobe was far from vast, but what he did have, he took excellent care of and was happy to wear the same outfits over and over.

Zorua cocked her head to the side. _'Will I be locked out again tonight?'_

N felt a pang of guilt shoot through his stomach. "Um. Probably. Will-will you be okay in the bathroom?"

It seemed like it took forever for her to answer, so N continued doing small things around his room, always patiently awaiting her response. Maybe the long stretch of silence meant the conversation was over.

But then, _'I am afraid.'_

That made N stop. Turning to her, he felt even more guilty when he sank down onto the bed beside her, staring at his feet. "I know you hate being locked in the bathroom, but it's the only place you can go. I'm sorry it has to be this way. I wish I could take you somewhere else."

Another long stretch of silence. Then, _'My owner liked to hit me a lot. She told me I was worthless and she could never win battles with me. I was always forced to battle pokemon much stronger than me, and it upset her until she lashed out.. I was abandoned in a forest until your Team Plasma picked me up and brought me here. The years I've spent with you in this room were some of the best. You were always kind.' _N was in shock. He'd never heard Zorua speak so much and so clearly before. He stared, waiting patiently for her to continue. _'Seeing your father hit you reminds me of my owner. It is wrong, N.'_

But. Her words struck a nerve in him. No, no, no, she was wrong. "No." Grabbing a fistful of his blanket, N tried to hold back the tears. "No, you don't know. I-I am loved, I am going to be king one day and-and h-he only does this because I'm bad. I'm bad and he has to hit me because I don't listen, but it's okay." He gave her a smile, but it was not genuine. "He loves me."

Silence filled the room once more. N wanted to say more, to make Zorua understand, but he couldn't think of what to say without repeating himself.

Zorua leaned her head against his arm, nudging him before sitting in his lap, staring at him with that one good eye. _'I love you, N. We have fun together. I would never hurt you. I want to protect you.'_

Wrapping his arms around her, N let it out, crying into her, wishing he wasn't so weak like this, wishing his daddy never hit him or made him do that horrible thing every time he walked through the door.

N was tired. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to go outside and see trees. It was his goal to travel far, far away from this place when he was let out of his room. He and Zorua would go away, where nobody could find them. Where daddy wouldn't find him. N loved his daddy, but then he hated what he made him do. N wanted to be a good son, he wanted daddy proud of him, he did. But daddy was never satisfied. Nothing N ever did was good enough. He would always, _always _do something wrong and be hit for it. No matter how many times N tried to convince himself daddy really loved him and that this was for his own good, he couldn't force his mind to cope with it, or block out the times daddy made him pull on that thing until he moaned, or when he would try to make him put his mouth over it-

No, he wanted to forget. To just make everything go away. Why couldn't he just sit back like a good boy and accept everything? Why couldn't he ever do what daddy wanted of him? N was a horrible son.

Zorua nudged his arm again, and N finally stopped crying. He was sorry, he was so sorry. As she stared at him, N stared back, wiping the tears away from his face before he spoke. "When I grow up and am allowed out of my room, I'm leaving. You're coming with me and we'll leave this place forever. And it'll be just you and me, Zorua. We can have fun all day long and-and we can be happy."

The part of him that tried to block everything out had shattered. N wanted to believe daddy loved him and did everything he did because of that excuse, but he knew the reality of it. The bottom line was that N didn't want to be hit anymore. He didn't want that sickening feeling poisoning his stomach every single time Ghetsis walked through the door. Pain was never something he could get used to, no matter how many times it happened, N could not ever hold back the tears and yelps he made.

He was tired of everything. This room, the clouds on the floor, the books he read over and over and over, the look Zorua gave him when she was shut up in the bathroom. This was it. N didn't want to do it anymore. But he had no choice, he knew that, he knew he had to keep fighting, and that he had to keep pleasing daddy. If that was the only way out of this room, N had to keep living this way until he could escape.

It was for Zorua, all for her. He'd never been more relieved or happy that he had her at that moment. She loved him, and he loved her, very much.

N would escape for her.

* * *

The scent in his hair was strong. The lavender shampoo his father gave him smelled good, but it made N nauseous. But, he had to do it for daddy.

With his room clean, his hair a little damp from his bath and that smell reaching his nose, N was ready. Zorua had been locked in the bathroom, the clock was ticking down the minutes. N sat on his bed, patiently waiting for the door to open. He hoped daddy would be pleased this time. Daddy was never pleased, but N had tried extra hard this time on everything. Even his posture was perfect as he waited.

Another minute rolled by on his clock before the door finally opened and N greeted Ghetsis with a smile. "Good evening, Ghetsis."

It seemed Ghetsis was already in a bad mood. He snapped at his son the moment his spoke. "How many times do I have to tell you not to address me unless I speak to you first?" Daddy had never said that, but N had to go along with it. Maybe he had in the past and N just forgot.

Nodding, N kept his smile. "I'm sorry."

Ghetsis slammed the door behind him before he crossed the room. It used to scare N, that loud noise, but not anymore.

"Your room is clean."

It was a statement, not a compliment, but N felt a little excitement rise anyway. If he could make daddy happy, he wouldn't be hit. "Yes sir."

Instead of standing in front of him for N to pull his pants down like he normally would, Ghetsis instead leaned down to him, reaching out to grab hold of N's chin and tilt his head up. This was new, he had never done this, but N was submissive. "Did you use the shampoo I gave you?"

"Yes sir."

And he smiled. Ghetsis never smiled, and it made N's heart race with fear. It was never a good sign when daddy smiled. "Good boy. Very good boy. Your pet is up?"

"Yes sir."

Now he stood before sitting on the bed next to N and wrapped his arms around him, making N grow stiff. Why was he doing this? N couldn't help but be afraid, especially since this broke his routine. Daddy always came in, N pulled on that thing, and he left. None of this ever happened, he rarely even talked. So why-

"You smell good."

That was a compliment, but N couldn't find it in himself to be flattered. Not while this was happening. He supposed that made him selfish, because _daddy finally said something nice_, but he was too afraid of what was going to happen next to think about it. What was he supposed to say? Nothing? This wasn't programmed into him yet. Not knowing what to do or think, N stayed silent.

Nuzzling his neck, Ghetsis breathed in the scent on his hair, making N's skin grow cold. All he had to do was be obedient and listen, but it was getting harder and harder to. He was scared. Daddy's lips brushed against his neck before he cupped them over it and sucked it. No, this was _wrong-it was-_what was N supposed to do? Daddy had never done something like this. Nothing was said while his neck was sucked, and maybe that's what Ghetsis wanted. For him to be silent and let him do what he wished. If only it were that simple. N could tell, there was something he was supposed to do, but not knowing whether to question what it was or not was driving him insane.

He was pulled tighter into the hug, but he stayed still. This was uncomfortable, but he wasn't hurting. All Ghetsis seemed to be doing was kissing and sucking his neck, which confused N, but he never would understand why his daddy did the things he did.

But then his teeth sank into the nook of his neck and N couldn't help but yelp out, in both pain and surprise. He immediately wanted to kick himself for it, because daddy would hit him now. N was to never make a sound, but he had fucked it up. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest when his father pushed away from him, staring him hard in the face.

N was in trouble. "I-I'm sorry."

"You know you aren't allowed to do that."

No, no, no, _he was going to be beaten_. N wanted to cry at the inevitable, but he would only be beaten harder for it. "Yes sir, I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Even though it was hopeless, N tried to make it better anyway. Anything, just anyway to soften the blow.

But there were no punches to his stomach, no kicks in his side or slaps on his face. Instead, daddy leaned forward, pulling N's face up with his hand, and kissed him on the lips. N didn't know what to think, or to do. His stomach hurt from the fear clogging it, and he wanted to vomit to purge all of the horrible feelings. This made him feel dirty, but he couldn't do anything about it.

Still, his instincts kicked in and he pushed away, forgetting he was supposed to be still. He was just determined to enrage daddy tonight it seemed. "I-"

And then he was slapped, his head lolling to the side from the force. It stung, it hurt, it always hurt, but N was not to show it. Daddy was mad now, if he wasn't before. "You should know better than to push away from me like that."

N's eyes were glued to the clouds on his floor. He hated eye contact, and he was at least grateful Ghetsis didn't force him to look him in the eye during things like this. "Y-yes sir. I'm sorry, I-"

Again, Ghetsis pulled him toward him, crushing their mouths together again. Every single cell in his brain was screaming at him to get away, to survive, because it was instinct to run from danger, to scream from terror and to hide somewhere safe. N couldn't help the little grunts he made as he tried to breathe, or when Ghetsis ran his fingers through his hair, yanking on it. N had to swallow down the urge to cry out. It helped when he bit his tongue, but he obviously couldn't do that now. It's like Ghetsis wanted him to cry out. Or maybe he was testing him, seeing how tolerate he could be. Either way, N made damn sure he didn't make a sound, even when daddy shoved his tongue through his mouth, licking at his teeth and trying to get N to engage in the activity with him.

Finally, Ghetsis pulled back, only to say, "When I go into your mouth like that, you do the same," before N was forced back into a kiss. This time when Ghetsis pushed his tongue through, N obeyed, doing the same. It felt dirty. More dirty than yanking on that thing. It was wet and gross. But Ghetsis seemed pleased. The kiss was sloppy and rough and N felt so, so dirty, but he thought of Zorua and growing up, seeing trees, stepping through grass, smelling flowers (not the lavender one, it was too strong for him), and running around with his pokemon. It helped to think of happy things.

Before long, Ghetsis had maneuvered his body over N, until N was lying down on his bed now with his daddy above him, still kissing and pausing only to breathe. The kiss felt like it lasted forever until Ghetsis finally moved away, instead aiming for N's neck, sucking down on it again. Expecting another bite, N held his breathe, stiff, waiting for this to be over. Through all of this, he never stopped wondering why his daddy wanted this. What did he gain from it? What did it even mean? Why was N the one he did this to and not someone like Anthea or Concordia? It didn't make sense, but N was never allowed to question his daddy out loud. He never quit hating this, even though he had stopped lying to himself and telling himself that daddy loved him, he knew that was a big fat lie. Daddies didn't do this to their sons. It had to mean he hated him. It was the only reason N could think of. The only thing N had been promised through it all was to be let out and to be made king of Team Plasma, of this castle, of his father.

N didn't want any of that anymore. He didn't care about being king, or even ruling over someone like his father. He just wanted to leave with Zorua and live a simple life. Even if he were king, he would still be with Ghetsis. And N wanted as far away from him as he could physically and mentally get.

His father's teeth nipped at his neck, but N expected it this time and was able to hold in any noise he wanted to make. When would this be over? Ghetsis was certainly taking his time. Why couldn't he just stick to the routine and let N go ahead and yank on him until he was happy? N was tired of being afraid.

The kissing and sucking finally stopped and Ghetsis leaned back. Throughout the ordeal, N hadn't noticed, but Ghetsis was now straddling him. It made N feel very trapped. Yet he bit down the fear. _Think of Zorua, think of her, think of leaving._

"You're being a good boy, N." As he said it, he leaned down to kiss N's cheek again, making him shudder. "You know what today is, don't you?"

N stared at the ceiling as he spoke. "Yes sir. Today is my birthday."

"How old are you?"

"I am 14."

"N, are you afraid of me?"

It was so unexpected, it made N jerk his gaze away from the ceiling and he looked Ghetsis in the eye. Of course he was afraid, but he knew what Ghetsis wanted to hear. But he couldn't force himself to smile anymore. It hurt to fake that stupid smile. "No sir."

"Really." And it wasn't a question this time. N stayed still as Ghetsis fiddled with the hem of his shirt. The room felt cold. "You know, N, I've been such a giving father to you. I gave you a room to yourself, a large room I might add. And I filled this room with toys for you when you were little. As you grew older, I began filling it with more age-appropriate things, things for you to learn from, so that you could be wise when you reach adulthood." N's pants were unzipped. He couldn't breathe. "I've given you so much, do you understand how lucky you are to have everything that you have, N?"

"Y-yes sir." Butterflies grew in his stomach until he wanted to vomit again.

With a smile, Ghetsis pulled N's pants off, tossing them to the floor. "If you scream, I'll break your arm."

Fear shot through N like a bullet at the statement, his stomach churning until he could feel the bile rise, but he didn't say anything. He didn't understand, but he didn't want to right now. As always, he just wanted daddy to leave.

Ghetsis pulled his pants down, and N saw that horrible thing he was so used to pulling on. It was already hard, and it terrified him. What did it mean? He just-he couldn't breathe, he _couldn't breathe, N was going to die this time, he knew it. Please, please-_ Not other moment was wasted as Ghetsis lifted N up by his legs, no preparation, no soothing words, nothing, and shoved it inside him.

The warning from before was forgotten. N screamed. Louder than any of the times he cried out from being hit, louder than when he fell and scraped his knee, or wasn't paying attention and slammed his arm into a wall, bruising it. He had to be dying, he knew it! Ghetsis was killing him, he had to be-there was no other way to explain what was happening.

It hurt, and N cried. Reaching up to cover his face, he suddenly remembered the warning, and in his hysteria, he wanted even a shred of mercy from his daddy. If he hid his face, he was invisible, he was away, and Ghetsis couldn't hurt him. But it was all stupid and fantasy. The reality was the pain below him, cutting him, tearing his insides, and the smell of lavender from his hair was overpowered by the smell of blood. It felt like daddy was ripping his body in half, but N couldn't think when the thing was pulled out, only shoved back in, even harder than the first time, or that could've been N's imagination. He was already torn, of course it hurt worse.

And he couldn't help it. It felt like he couldn't breathe and he wanted to live. To live for Zorua. "DADDY! DADDY, PLEASE! I-I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!"

Ghetsis only gripped his legs harder, digging his nails into them, but N could ignore that. All of his attention was focused on that thing being pulled in and out, in and out. Ghetsis said nothing.

Trees, grass, warm sweet air, N and Zorua playing in a forest, smelling of flowers and playing hide and seek. Those were usually the things N would think of to block out the horror of his reality. But there was only blackness as he closed his eyes, his hands covering his face in shame and fear.

From the other side of the room, he could faintly hear scratching against his bathroom door as Zorua frantically tried to claw her way out.

It was no good. They were both trapped.

But this-N couldn't take it. It hurt too much, he couldn't. Do it. No, he didn't want to die, he had to save himself! Escape, he had to run, somehow, he had to get away, o-or else he was going to bleed and die.

It didn't hurt so much anymore, not with his blood lubing Ghetsis. The sliding motions went more smoothly, and N was able to compose himself long enough to open his eyes.

Daddy was shoving that thing in and out, in and out of him, and it felt like it hurt worse to watch. Ghetsis's eyes were closed in concentration and N had to take the opportunity to catch him off guard. He had to run. He _had _to.

The door. It was all he could think of. Pain had risen his adrenaline, and N felt more empowered, so this had to work. When Ghetsis pulled out again, N took all of the force he could muster in his body and reared his leg back, kicking his daddy off of him with the ball end of his foot.

It worked. He must've hit him in the chest because Ghetsis stumbled backward, coughing and holding his hand to the area N had kicked. Even through his pain, N was driven on fear, and leaped out of the bed, wanting away. Blood dribbled down his legs, but all he could concentrate on was making it to his door. Never had he run so fast before in his life. Moving made him hurt worse, _but he had to run! He had to live!_

Coughing and gasping, N reached his bedroom door and gripped the handle with his shaking hand, trying to turn it. Then something slammed into the side of his head, knocking him down to the floor where he screamed.

Ghetsis towered over him and N choked on his sobs before his daddy yanked him up by his hair, dragging him back to the bed. He had fucked up. Oh god, daddy was angry, _why did he do that? Why was he so stupid?_ With his head pounding, N tried to breathe through his sobs. He was still bleeding and he knew it was about to happen again. "Daddy, please! Please, please! I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it hurts!"

His pleading only made Ghetsis more angry. Once he reached the bed, N was pushed back down, his father straddling him once again, taking both hands and punching, slapping, clawing at every part of N's body. N held his hands up to his face protectively, but Ghetsis pulled them back, slapping his face for it. "YOU LIAR!" More punches, slaps, a smack to his face that busted N's lip open and blood dripped down his face. "YOU FUCKING LIAR, YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T AFRAID!"

N could only scream back, wishing it would stop. Everything hurt. "I'M SORRY, DADDY, I-!" But the punch to his face silenced him.

Then everything stopped until they were both breathing hard, N's breathing more broken and stifled. Was he finally going to die? He wished he would, if only to end everything. Let daddy kill him, N didn't care anymore. He wanted to give up so that everything would be over. The trees and grass and Zorua and leaving seemed so impossible now. Maybe it was always just a dream. Dreams were happy. Reality wasn't.

The blood tasted familiar in his mouth. Metallic.

Ghetsis spoke, his voice slightly hoarse from yelling. "You're such a fucking disappointment, N. You're selfish, too. I give you everything, I'm training you to be king and you refuse to accept my help. Well, I'm not helping you anymore. If you want to be a spoiled brat and have things your way, then so be it." Reaching down to the floor, Ghetsis brought back up N's discarded pants from before. "I really am too nice to you, N." Leaning forward, he nabbed N's wrists before winding the fabric around them. N wished he couldn't feel. Let Ghetsis do whatever he wanted, N just didn't want to feel it anymore. "Lie back down."

And N wasn't going to cross him twice. Learning from his mistake, he submitted everything this time. Even if it hurt, he was being punished for running away. Why had he done that? God, he was so stupid. No wonder daddy hated him.

Again, he felt that piercing pain shoot up inside him when daddy shoved back into him. This time, N took his bound wrists and moved them to his chest, gripping his shirt and digging his nails into it. He wanted to scream, but bit his tongue, tiny grunts hissing through his teeth.

With every shove into him, N would bite his tongue and grip his shirt as tight as he could. Tears fell down his face, but he couldn't feel them. But he could think of the future this time. A future without-this.

In out, in out, Ghetsis began panting harder and harder with every thrust. It felt like it lasted forever and N wanted to die, but Ghetsis finally let out a loud grunt and N winced when he pulled out, something warm oozing out of him. It made him feel gross.

Ghetsis moved himself from over N, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his pants up. N was grateful the entire thing was finally over, but then he knew what was about to happen also and it made the bile rise again in his throat and his stomach feel like it caved inwards.

"I told you not to scream, didn't I?"

Please, please, N wanted to die, he wanted- "Yes sir."

"And you ran away. And you kicked me."

Please, just _leave_, leave him be. "Yes sir."

With that said, Ghetsis turned back toward N who was still lying down, staring off into the distance. There was no more future in his mind. Only a darkened room lit by a lamp, clouds on the floor, and his daddy pulling him up, untying his wrists before he grabbed his left arm, squeezing it.

"You should be punished more for that stupid stunt you pulled, but I'm willing to let it slide. I'm not going back on my word, however. I told you not to scream and you deliberately disobeyed me. I really am too nice to you, N." His arm was squeezed harder and then twisted until N heard a crack, and he couldn't even cry anymore. Daddy was so strong, it was insane. His breath was knocked from him and he finally saw black.

There was a meadow filled with flowers. N and Zorua played chase until they couldn't run anymore. The flowers smelled good.

N was happy.

* * *

**Always happy to get reviews. Killed myself getting this thing out today. Hur, let's see how much more fucked up I can make this.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Despite all the news and stuff that's popping out about bw2, I'm saying for this fic that Ghetsis and N are related. Which means N has a mommy. Somewhere. **

* * *

Everything hurt.

When N awoke the next time, it was all he could do to keep from crying out. His arm-his body, everything hurt. His eyes slowly opened to view the ceiling from above, staring at the patterns on it. He didn't want to move. He _couldn't _move. Even breathing hurt to a degree. There was a dull ache around his bottom and it made him cringe when he shifted in bed. N didn't want to be awake right now, not in so much pain like he was. Why had he woken? It felt like he'd only been asleep for a few hours.

There was a chill in the air and it took N a few moments to remember he was naked from the waist down. His blanket had been thrown to the floor. The room was cold, but N couldn't force himself to move, not like this. Everything was uncomfortable. His arm ached horribly, his bottom hurt, and when he looked down, he saw bruises and scratches on his arms and legs from where daddy hit him. He couldn't imagine what his face looked like.

His mind was too shot to really think anymore. N just wanted to sleep, but he knew it wouldn't come. Something, anything to take his mind away for awhile where he wouldn't think about last night, N wanted to black out and never wake up, but knowing it wouldn't happen made him want to cry. But that would only make him hurt worse.

While he stared at the ceiling, wishing for nothing but sleep, he heard the hinges on his door creak as it opened. N didn't turn to see who it was. It couldn't have been daddy, so he didn't worry. The shifting of clothing, then someone came into his view. It was a person he'd never seen before. An older man with a beard. Faintly, N could make out some sort of suitcase in his hand.

N was completely out of energy, and he was glad when the man explained himself so he didn't have to ask. "Your father asked me to come in here and...attend to a broken ar...?" The last part trailed off and N realized the man had noticed he was partially naked. It made N feel ashamed, but he was so tired. Had it been any other time, he would have reached for his blankets, rushed to hide himself. But he didn't care right now. He just nodded at the man's question, and lifted his right arm to point at his aching left one.

Nodding, the man moved to the other side of N's bed before popping open the suitcase and pulling out a bag of what looked like ice. "This will numb your arm. It should help with the pain. Here." Before that, the man reached down and nabbed N's blanket off the floor, tossing it over his bottom half. "It's chilly in this room. Boy, why aren't you dressed properly?"

N grimaced at the question. He didn't want to talk, he just wanted to be put out of his misery. But. The man was here to help, he supposed he could at least try and speak. "I-I d...on't know." Even his own voice made him sick to his stomach. It cracked and sounded like he'd eaten sand paper. "Hurts...t-too much."

The ice bag was wrapped around him and N whimpered when the man had to move his arm up to wrap it all the way around. "I apologize. I know it hurts, but this will make it better. How on earth did you break your arm?"

N knew the man's intentions were good, but-he just wanted to be left alone. It hurt to talk, or even move. The questions made him antsy. N stayed silent this time, knowing it was rude, but just not caring anymore. He wanted his arm better, he wanted everything to stop hurting. He wanted sleep.

Silence set in, the man having stopped his questions after he realized N wasn't going to be answering anymore, which N was thankful for. After the ice bag had been pressed against his arm for quite some time, it was finally removed. Digging into his bag, the man brought out a splint. "This doesn't look terrible. If you're lucky, it will heal in just a few weeks. But once I wrap you up in this, you need to keep it dry, okay?" Not waiting for a response, the man set to work. The ice had definitely helped a considerable amount, but N could still feel the dull aching pain as he was wrapped up like a mummy. He couldn't look, or wanted to look. Sleep just wouldn't come, no matter how much he wished for it.

N didn't know how long he spent staring at the ceiling as he was wrapped, but finally, the man stood up, clicking his suitcase closed. His entire left arm was suffocated underneath the splint, but if it would help, he didn't care. It didn't hurt all that much if he stayed still.

"You'll be good as new in a few weeks. Here, you should take this." A water bottle and a small bottle that rattled with pills was set on N's nightstand. "If you're ever in a great deal of pain, take one of those. But only when you're in pain. I wouldn't recommend taking more than 2 a day, though. Remember not to get your arm wet or move it around if you can help it." Grabbing his suitcase, the man headed toward N's door, stopping before he turned the handle. "And...I hope you feel better, Lord N. Broken arms hurt, I know, but it will get better. I promise." From N's position, he heard the door creak open, shut, and lock before silence set in again.

Thankful to be alone for once, N turned his head toward his nightstand, reaching out for the pills. He was in a great deal of pain. Everything still hurt. He swore through his teeth when his arm wouldn't reach over far enough. If he wanted these things, he was going to have to sit up, and he dreaded it. It would put weight on his bottom and it would hurt, but. The pills would make it all better. Swallowing, N slid his legs over the sheets beneath him, taking a deep breath when he used his good arm to help push himself up into a sitting position. Just like he feared, it ached. But he could tough it out. It was only a dull aching. It didn't even hurt as bad as his arm. Or it could've been his imagination. When he looked down, there was blood on his sheets and he whimpered at the sight of it. Blood, his blood. Seeing it made him sick to his stomach and he wanted to vomit. It wasn't the sight that made him retch, but the thought that it had been ripped from his body. And so cruelly. But, he didn't want to think about anything that happened last night. Sleep, that's what he needed, and wanted so bad. Anything to block out what happened, N would take it.

Biting down his sobs, N reached over to nab the pills, swallowing one with ease. He hoped they would work quickly. There was nothing on the sides that said anything about making him drowsy, so N would have to fall asleep another way. It annoyed him a little that they wouldn't help him sleep, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

As he shifted, being careful not to make himself hurt worse when he tried getting back into bed, a scratching on his bathroom door stopped him. Zorua was still locked inside, and was whining to get out. N felt guilt stab his stomach. He'd forgotten all about her. And damn it all, even if he did hurt, he couldn't leave her there.

A little faster this time, N bit his lip when he stood up, surprised at himself when nothing hurt that bad. As long as he was careful, his body seemed to be holding up pretty well. It worried him a little bit, especially since everything hurt so much last night until he had screamed, but-he couldn't think of that now. Slowly but surely, N finally made it to his bathroom door, letting out Zorua who instantly ran up to him and stood on her hind legs, her hair standing on end as she pawed at him.

Nothing would have made him happier than to reach down, pull her up into his arms and cuddle her, but he couldn't do that right now. "I'm sorry." It was all he could do. Or say. With Zorua free, N began the slow walk back to his bed. Now that he was moving, it was becoming easier to get used to the uncomfortable feeling. As disgusting as it sounded, and how much it made him want to vomit, N could bear with it. Moving with one arm wasn't that bad, but when he tried to reach down and grab his pants to cover his decency (even if he were the only one to see it), it was difficult to maneuver. He tripped several times before he even managed to get both legs in. Not wanting to sit on the bed was a choice he made in exchange for a little less painful, yet awkward hop.

As he worked himself into his pants, N spied Zorua watching him from the head of his bed. Her head was cocked in curiosity, her bushy tail wagging a little like she thought he was playing some type of game. It was so strange she could be 'speaking' to him one moment like a human would, and then the next she acted like any other pokemon.

It confused him, but he decided not to dwell on it. She was here and she was comfort and it was all he needed right now.

Having finally worked his way into his pants, N grabbed his blanket, smoothing it over the blood stains on his sheets and curling on top, wrapping the blanket around himself and Zorua as best as he could without straining his hurt arm.

With Zorua next to him, it was easier to get comfortable. Her eyes stared at him pitiably, but she didn't speak. That was fine with N. No words needed to be said, because what could they do? Zorua was there, giving him warmth, letting him cuddle her in his one good arm, and it comforted him enough where he could smile again.

Hugging her tight, he whispered, "Thank you," to her before finally falling back asleep.

* * *

"Lord N." Something nudged his arm. "My lord, you need to wake up. It's time for lunch."

N wasn't hungry, but the nudging persisted. Opening his eyes, he saw Anthea standing over him, holding a tray of food. But he wasn't hungry. Shifting a little, making Zorua stir and whimper in her sleep, N swallowed before speaking. "No thank you. I'm not hungry right now."

"You were sleeping when I came to give you breakfast, so I decided to leave you alone, but you shouldn't skip lunch." Anthea seated herself at the foot of his bed, forcing him to slide over and make room for her. "My lord, please sit up and at least eat a little."

Honestly, if he _did _eat, he might've thrown up. But Anthea was never an easy one to win an argument with. And she went through the trouble, he supposed he could eat a little, just to satisfy her. Using his good arm as support, N leaned up in bed, surprised when nothing hurt. It felt nice not to be in pain for once. But he forgot about his broken arm and tried to move it out of instinct, causing searing pain to shoot up his arm, like a knife stabbing him through. N couldn't help it. He cried out, tears in his eyes.

"My lord!" Almost knocking the tray over, Anthea jumped off the bed, kneeling down to his side as he gasped and wheezed.

No no NO, he was so frustrated, it made him sick. Zorua was up jumping around him, yipping and growling at Anthea, probably thinking she had hurt him somehow. What felt like something impaling him earlier was now dulling, and N could breathe a little easier. It was an accident, just a reflex to move both arms, but he was even more limited than he thought. He was so stupid, to forget something like that. Now he'd probably made things worse.

"My lord, are you alright? Please, don't strain yourself." Kneeling down, Anthea wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head into her chest. "I am sorry, my lord. You must be more careful if you want your arm to heal fast."

The sudden hug shocked and confused him. Nobody besides Zorua ever did anything like this. And it...felt nice. Really nice. Anthea was warm, although small, thinner than he was and he was close to being taller than her. But this close to her, where he could smell her perfume (it smelled like peaches), it was overwhelming and he choked on his sobs. Crying is what babies did, that's what daddy said, and N was a fucking baby if he cried, but he couldn't help it. Reaching up, he wrapped his one good arm around her, wanting this moment to last for a long time. To be held by another human, to be comforted and told everything would be okay, because it _would be_, it would, it made him sick with happiness.

Something so fundamental, just a simple hug, but it struck his core and he felt so starved for it. For a comfort Zorua couldn't give him. Even though Zorua was with him constantly, telling him she loved him and cuddling with him, it wasn't anything like being wrapped in a person's arms. He felt-safe. For the first time. Loved and safe. And it made him tremble uncontrollably because he knew Anthea didn't love him. This was her job, but he would take a false hug over the wrath of his father.

Finally, Anthea pushed away from him, even though he didn't want to let go. It felt like it lasted for hours, but he knew it didn't. "You have pain killers, my lord? You should take one. And then eat something. Your father is coming in tonight."

That made his head shoot up, where he stared her in the face. "...Why." He couldn't ask it as a question, he had to demand it.

"He just told me to tell you he would be returning tonight. That is all, my lord."

After everything that happened last night, Ghetsis still wasn't satisfied? It made him sick with fear, but also exasperated. What would he have to do to make daddy leave him alone? He couldn't take it anymore! No, he didn't want daddy there again, not right after all of that, please, _please_. Just-leave him alone. He figured daddy wouldn't be back until his arm healed, but this. Just the thought made his heart pound and his throat close where he felt like he couldn't breathe. What would happen if daddy was so rough-his arm was already broken, so why-

The tears returned. And he felt so weak and angry and afraid of everything. Holding his hand over his face, N couldn't help it and cried again. He was so exhausted, from everything. He was tired of fear, of anger, of daddy. He wanted help.

But this was _daddy_, wasn't it? The man who brought him toys and who loved him and who gave him Zorua and was nice to him, wasn't it? And if N was slapped and scratched and bitten until he bled, then it was N's fault. Not daddy's. That's what daddy told him. And daddy was always right, because he loved N. Even if he broke his arm, it was N's fault.

N was tired of being beaten and slapped around. But it seemed like nothing he could do would satisfy daddy. That's why he wanted to escape so bad, he wanted someone to save him, to help him. Because no matter what he did, he was always wrong, always hit, and always scared.

And he knew. The moment daddy walked through his door again later that night, N would be hit again. Because he was a fucking disgrace of a son and he couldn't make Ghetsis happy.

The tray of food was set in his lap, along with the water bottle and a pain killer. "My lord, please."

N didn't want to eat. He didn't even want to take the medicine anymore. What was the point when he knew he was going to be in pain again later that evening?

But.

Wiping at his eyes, he took his pill and nibbled at his sandwich until Anthea left. He didn't want Zorua there right now either, but that made him selfish. N just wanted to be alone, though. Because no amount of comfort would help him, and it was better to accept his fate than lie to himself and pretend he would ever be safe.

Even if it hurt worse, it was better than lies.

* * *

The rest of the day was slow. As the hours came and went, N tried his best to stand up and do little things around his room. It wasn't hard to clean with just one arm, but it was certainly awkward when he had to use the bathroom. Only when he was so limited did N realize how much he'd taken for granted. Perhaps he should have thanked Ghetsis for showing him how ungrateful he'd been and how lucky he was. After all, you never realize what you have until it's ripped away from you. Or in this case, twisted until it's broken and painful to even think of wanting to move it.

Still, he tried his best. It was slow, but his room was finally clean. The bloody sheets were removed and replaced with his blanket. He didn't have any more sheets to cover the bed with, so he lay the dirty ones out for Concordia to take. Zorua either watched him as he worked, or followed him around the whole time.

Once he deemed his room acceptable, a bath was the next thing on his mind. Or a scrub. He couldn't fill the tub up or shower with the splint on his arm. Soaking a wash cloth with water and squeezing it onto himself seemed to be the most effective way, although slow. But, all he had was time. And it was nice to be clean again. His limbs ached and stung when the water hit, but he could bear with it.

After his bath, he set to work trying to do something with his long hair. He wished daddy would let him cut it. It was really irritating, even tied back. He never realized his hair could be so thick, and even though it was pretty, it was hell to deal with. It tangled when he ran a brush through it and he always ended up pulling on it more than grooming it. This was one of the things that would have to go when he was let out. Just because daddy had long hair didn't mean N had to.

When the steam cleared from his mirror, N was able to look at his face clearly and noticed he had a black eye, but was otherwise unscathed, least on his face. It clashed so horribly against his pale skin. Scratches and bruises were easily spotted and it disgusted him.

As he fiddled with his hair, trying his best with one hand to dry it and make it presentable, he felt Zorua's tail brush against his leg. Looking down, he spotted the pokemon weaving in and out of his legs, rubbing against him like a cat would. It was silly that it made him smile, but to him, it was just simple affection. Affection was always worth a smile. "Hey." Zorua cocked her head up at him when he spoke, continuing to rub onto his legs. N want to pick her up, but- "Ghetsis is coming back in tonight. You're going to have to be locked up again."

Normally, Zorua would give him some sort of sign that she understood. A hard stare to his face, her ears or tail drooping, but she continued nuzzling him. N wasn't sure how to react. He was so used to those hopeless stares that for her to ignore him was unheard of. So he continued drying his hair, letting her love on him. Her love felt better. It wasn't comforting, because he was scared for when Ghetsis would come in. He never stopped being afraid of pain. And he knew he never would. It was something nobody could get used to. He sort of wished he could-but no, that was insane.

Time seemed to speed up after that. It wasn't long after he dried his hair that he was shutting Zorua up in his bathroom where she whimpered a little, but otherwise stayed put.

Sometimes if N stayed quiet enough, he could hear the faintest of sounds from outside. Like crickets chirping, or rain splattering against the wall. During these moments, he felt content. Not happy, but not afraid or angry either. Rain soothed him, and right now, with Zorua quiet and him sitting on his bed, waiting for the door to open, he could hear it hitting the wall behind him. He knew what it looked like from books and things. But never had he remembered seeing it for himself. Sometimes, he would fantasize about running through it. He imagined it was somewhat like a shower, only you didn't run around in it to get clean. It was just another thing for him to dream about doing once he got out. All of his dreams seemed so-simple. Like cutting his hair, running around smelling the earth and trees, watching rain fall. Those things seemed wonderful to him. But mostly getting away, far away and living on his own. It seemed impossible, but he was determined to make it happen, one way or another. He had his plan all out in his mind and he would go over it constantly. It was so simple, but it seemed so impossible. All that needed to happen was for Ghetsis to let him out. Out of his room, the castle, and N would run. Let Ghetsis keep the throne, N didn't want it, or care about it. Being king was a childhood fantasy, but not anymore. There was no real point to it. He would have no authority over the most important person, so why strive for something completely useless?

It made him a little afraid to think of a future where he did manage to run away. Living on his own would be hard at first. No one was going to give him things on a silver platter, but the more pressing matter was whether or not Ghetsis would come after him. He tried to think of it as why would he come looking for him, one little boy in the whole big world, but then this was _daddy_-of course he wouldn't rest until N was back in his custody.

The more he thought on it, the more it seemed his plan wouldn't work. But then, he had to have hope, at least a little. The world was big. A lot bigger than his room filled with books and clouds on the floor. N would keep traveling until he was sure he was far away enough. Even if it took years, he would be safe.

N's thoughts were interrupted when his door opened, blinding him with the light from outside. In the few seconds his door opened, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of outside. The walls outside were blue and gold, and bright. The floor seemed to sparkle, but one thing that never changed was how much light there always seemed to be. Maybe it was just because his room was lit by a small lamp and everything else seemed much brighter, but he didn't know.

Ghetsis slammed the door shut like he always did when he entered, and N absolutely could not muster the smile he was so used to giving him when he came in. It was scary how routine this was, how almost natural it felt. As much as he hated pulling Ghetsis's pants down and being forced to pull on that thing, he would gladly take that over what happened last night. Maybe it was just another way of Ghetsis showing him how good he had it until it was ripped out from under him. God, N was so stupid.

N knew daddy loved him and wanted what was best for him. Thoughts of escape were just fantasy anyway. Even though he very much wanted them to be reality, really. N wouldn't be able to pull it off.

N bit his tongue when Ghetsis sat down next to him on his left side. He feared he would try to move his arm, but Ghetsis spoke instead. "Do you know why your arm is broken?"

Because it was N's fault. It was always his fault. "Yes sir."

"Why?"

"Because I disobeyed you."

Ghetsis shifted, and N could never look him in the eye. They stayed glued to the gold and purple patterns in Ghetsis's robes. "You realize I don't want to do the things I do, don't you? I'm doing them because it's necessary for you. You _need _this."

N nodded. "I understand." Even though he didn't.

"Do you really?" Ghetsis then grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him. "If you understand so much, then why do you constantly disobey me?" B-but-N thought he was doing good- "If you had any semblance of understanding, you wouldn't try and run from me, or scream when I tell you not to. You wouldn't have a broken arm if you really understood anything." No, _no!_ _N did everything he was told, he did-he was just scared, and-_ "Do you even want to be king, N?"

Tears coated his eyes, but N blinked them away. He couldn't-no. He just. It didn't matter. No matter what he did, nothing would satisfy his father. All he could do was soften the blow when he did something wrong. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to what?"

And he hated it when Ghetsis did this, when he made him fess up to the things he did wrong. Because it didn't make anything better. It only gave Ghetsis more excuses to punish him. "For running. A-and screaming when you told me not to."

"Why did you do it?"

He wished time would speed up, so that this would be over. He wanted to be left alone again, to curl up under the covers with Zorua and sleep for a long time. And let the rain lull him to sleep. "I'm sorry. I was afraid." Everything was the wrong thing to say. It was like stepping in a field of invisible bombs. One wrong step would make everything explode, and talking to daddy was always this way. Treading on thin ice. Never knowing what he would say to cause Ghetsis to snap made him insane.

"If you understand the reason why I do the things I do, then why are you afraid, N? Are you lying to me?"

All his life, N had been trained to tell his father what he wanted to hear, even if it wasn't the truth, and now he felt trapped. There was no right answer. If he said yes, then he would be hit for admitting he was lying. If he said no, then he would be hit anyway for continuing to lie. No matter what he said, N couldn't and wouldn't win. There was no avoiding it, so... "Yes sir."

Instead of a slap to his face, or a punch to his ribs, N felt his father's fingers wrap around his left arm, squeezing it. N's initial reaction was to cry out, but he managed to swallow it, choosing instead to bite on his tongue and bear with it.

"A good king doesn't lie to his father, N."

"Y-yes sir." Talking raised the risk of him crying out, but _he had to." I'm_ sorry."

"Are you really sorry?" His arm was squeezed tighter until he couldn't help it and cried out.

"Y-yes! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" How in the world could daddy be so strong? He was going to ruin N's chances of recovering-or N was. This was all his fault anyway. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"You should be punished for lying."

Please, anything to make it stop. "Yes sir."

"Do you realize what you've done wrong?" He finally released N's arm and N felt like he could breathe again.

Swallowing, N focused his gaze back on the patterns in his father's robes. "I lied." The inevitable sunk in his stomach like a pile of rocks. Daddy would hurt him again.

"You did this to yourself." N's face was scooped up again when Ghetsis kissed him. This never hurt, even when Ghetsis was rough, but N felt gross when his tongue would touch his. He could taste him, he could taste daddy, and it was disgusting. It was hard to concentrate on anything else when daddy kissed him. All he could think of was how gross his mouth felt, especially when daddy licked his lips, like he was eating him. But, he heard a zipper being undone. No, nono-it was just a repeat of last night. It was okay though. N had learned his lesson. N wouldn't run. It would hurt, but he had pain killers. It would be okay.

Then daddy pushed him away, grabbing him by the back of his hair and pulling his face down to his lap. His pants were unzipped, that horrible thing in N's view. Daddy wasn't loosening his grip, instead gripping his hair between his fingers harder, putting enough force on N's head where he couldn't move.

N was scared. "Put your mouth over it." _N was scared._ "Do it, N."

Out of instinct, N resisted. He couldn't help it. But when he did, Ghetsis made sure to pull his hair, making him wince. "I-I'm sorry." Really. He couldn't do anything right. Slamming his eyes shut, N prepared himself as he put his mouth over it.

"Watch your teeth."

Once the tip was inside, N ceased all movement. He was scared, he couldn't do this-why was daddy making him do this-But then his head was forcibly pushed down further, making the thing hit the back of his throat where he gagged. No, NO, HE DIDN'T WANT TO DO THIS!

"Move your head up and down or I'll make you."

N tried to compose himself, but it wasn't working. Slowly, he moved up, then back down. It wasn't far enough. Again, Ghetsis pushed his head down and he gagged. This was much worse than pulling on it. It was...N just wanted to go to sleep. But his stomach was already cramping from gagging and choking so much.

"God, you're so useless."

N felt the sides of his face being grabbed before Ghetsis dug his fingers into him and moved his head up and down, up and down. N grunted in protest, because every time he would go down, he choked on it. It felt like he couldn't breathe, but he knew it was just his body trying to cope. Up down, up down, he choked. And it grew harder and harder.

Ghetsis moaned when it grew hard, his hands still digging into N's face. His nails pierced the flesh, but it could be ignored. N felt like hours had passed as he did the same motions, over and over. Ghetsis had eased off of him, instead letting him move himself. It wasn't any better or comfortable, but N had to deal with it.

Finally Ghetsis grunted and N felt something warm shoot in his mouth. He couldn't handle it. When that happened, he tore away from his daddy, coughing, letting the gooey substance drip down his chin as he gagged and fought to breathe.

It was so disgusting. N was disgusting. He just wanted another bath, he wanted to vomit to purge himself of all feelings of impurity. It all felt so dirty.

Daddy's fingers returned to his hair, running through it, pulling at the thick strands and making N bite his lip to keep from wincing. "You are beautiful."

N didn't understand it, or wanted to. Make daddy leave, just let him leave, that's all he wanted. But he was thankful he wasn't hit.

N's face was pulled up again where Ghetsis kissed him before he left. When the door was shut, leaving N alone, he opened his bathroom door, letting out an excited Zorua before he leaned over the toilet and vomited.

* * *

**Apparently Ghetsis never wears underwear. **

**The review button looks lonely. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeah I don't know what to say about this chapter other than I have to have surgery next week and probably won't update for a little bit. Enjoy the daddy issues.**

* * *

Once N could control his gag reflex, the times daddy would come into his room weren't so harrowing. As long as N gave him what he wanted, he wasn't even hit. Like before, it had become routine, but instead of N pulling on daddy with his hand, he had to do it with his mouth. The first few times were uncomfortable. Very. N couldn't help it and ended up choking on it. Daddy always got mad at him when he did. If N choked or gagged, daddy slapped him, but, N had been doing good the past few times. He hadn't choked, he was getting used to it. After all, once something became part of your every night activities, once you did it over and over, you got used to it. It was just like exercising. Lift weights enough, and your muscles toned, study something, and you could memorize it, suck on daddy every night for 3 weeks and N could control himself and make daddy happy.

The growing pain in his stomach never ceased. Every time daddy opened that door and sat down, no words were said, because N knew what to do, but it made him feel...he didn't even know anymore. Afraid? But, he wasn't hurting. It was dirty, though. Because-he didn't know why. It wasn't natural. But it had to be done in order for him to survive. And never would he go against Ghetsis's wishes on purpose. The times before he had been scared, he'd made terrible mistakes. But it was all part of the learning process. Ghetsis just couldn't seem to beat it into him enough. There was always-always the pit in his stomach that coiled when he did something like this. Always, his heart would pound until he could hear it in his ears. It was something that never went away, no matter how much he wished for it or tried to force it down, it always won. And N never stopped being afraid.

But as Ghetsis sat on his bed, face scrunched in concentration, his fingers tangled in N's hair as he moved up and down, up and down, N had to block out the horrible feelings. Terror and disgust were there, louder than any other emotion, but he couldn't let them show. Because if he was good, then it would be over. But if he was bad, the situation would turn out much worse than it already was. So N sucked. And sucked, up and down, letting his tongue out in the ways Ghetsis had taught him, moving over his father just like he wanted. It was always about what Ghetsis wanted, but N was okay with that. He was a good boy. He was a good son.

"N..." Ghetsis always moaned out his name when he was close. Sometimes he would mumble words N couldn't make out, or another name completely, but it was almost always ignored while he focused on what he was doing. When Ghetsis moaned, N knew he was doing it right. And he kept his motions in sync. Near the end, Ghetsis would yank on his hair, and it made N wince. But he couldn't afford to accidentally bite his father. So like everything else, he blocked it out. N had been doing a lot of that lately, and he was getting better at it. It hurt less to think of things differently than what was reality. The internal stabbing he felt in his stomach could be calmed with merely thinking a different way.

N grunted when the warm substance would squirt into his mouth. It tasted awful, but it was worse when Ghetsis made him swallow it. Normally he could get away with spitting, but Ghetsis had made sure to make the ordeal as unpleasant as possible. With N off him, the stuff still inside his mouth, he wanted to vomit, but instead he opened his mouth and let it dribble down his chin. It was disgusting and dirty and-but positive thoughts, positive thoughts. It wasn't that bad, he could tell himself. It was just warm and sticky. It wasn't that bad. Honestly, N always made things out to be much worse in his head. But the good thoughts would let him know it was okay and he was just being silly.

Like always, when it was over and Ghetsis's breathing returned to normal, he would nab N's chin and pull him up to him, kissing him. N didn't know which felt more strange. Daddy's lips or daddy's- "N."

With his lips sticky, it was difficult to muster an answer, but he had to. "Yes, Ghetsis?" He sort of missed calling him dad or daddy out loud. He called him daddy when he talked to Zorua. Not that it mattered.

"You are beautiful." It was something that was told to him over and over, every time he did this for him. N never knew the meaning. Well, he knew what it meant, but it still didn't make sense to him. In his fairytale books, people who were attracted to one another often told the other person they were gorgeous or pretty. The pictures depicted a couple who were elegant, graceful and almost literally glowing. When N looked in the mirror, he saw a boy too tall for his age, pale, so skinny that his ribs were showing, and a long tangled mess of green hair. That wasn't something N considered beautiful. To him, he didn't even look like a boy. Nor did he feel like much of one anymore. It made him a little sad to think like that, but he couldn't help it.

Being told he was beautiful when normally in his books, it was something the men told the ladies, it made N feel like less of a person. Beautiful wasn't a compliment to him, even if daddy meant it that way. It felt more like an insult. So he never knew how to react, because he didn't fully understand exactly what Ghetsis meant. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Pretty. It made him ashamed of himself.

Ghetsis followed up on the kiss by moving to N's neck and nuzzling him before sucking on him. His mouth was warm and invading, and every move made shivers go down N's back. It was worse when his tongue came out. It gave N the sensation that he was being eaten, and sometimes Ghetsis would comment on how good he tasted. They were just words. Words that didn't match his actions, at least to N. He didn't understand them. How could he taste good? Not knowing only infuriated him more. It was best to let things like that slide. The less he knew, the better off he would be blocking out the horrible things.

After Ghetsis sucked his neck, he moved back up to his mouth, kissing N once more before he backed off and spoke. "The doctor is coming back in later to check on your arm. If you've been taking good care of it, he might take the splint off. Won't it feel good to be able to use that arm again, N?"

N forced a smile. Daddy was nice, always nice to him. "Yes sir."

Another kiss, this time more forceful until it drove N back onto the bed where he lay on his back. "You've been a good boy these past few weeks." More kisses, until N felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't dare voice his discomfort. The pit in his stomach settled when he thought of how nice daddy was and how this wasn't scary at all. "If your arm is healed, I'm coming back later tonight." That meant N had cleaning to do. And as always, when Ghetsis visited him during the night, N had to wash his hair with the lavender shampoo. It always made him want to vomit, because it was such a strong scent, but it's what Ghetsis wanted. He never stood up an opportunity to inhale N's hair when he knew he'd washed it with lavender. N didn't know how or why he liked it. "And then-" He paused for another kiss. "If you're good tonight, I'll give you a special surprise."

But it wasn't N's birthday or anything. Special surprises were reserved only for birthdays. He had to ask. "What is it?" It wouldn't hurt to be a little curious. He didn't get to ask questions all that much and it was nice to know things sometimes.

Ghetsis leaned up off of him, one of his arms snaking around to run his fingers through N's hair. He twirled random strands around his finger. "Since you've been so good, and if you are good tonight, I'm going to let you go outside."

The pit in N's stomach completely disappeared and for the first time, he felt butterflies instead. Shooting up, the smile on his face was genuine this time, stretching from both sides. "O-outside? Really?" Daddy was so nice.

"Yes, N. But you have to be good and do what I say. Do you understand?"

Excitement. Pure excitement, like N hadn't felt before in his entire life. Outside. For real, the one thing he'd strived so hard for, the one thing he'd waited his entire life for. It was really going to happen, he couldn't believe it. "Y-yes sir! I-I'll do anything!" And he really meant it this time. Finally, everything was going to pay off. This was so surreal, he must've been dreaming, but-_outside_. Butterflies flocked inside him, and he visibly shook with happiness, his grin never fading. He-he... Reaching forward, N wrapped his good arm around Ghetsis. He never remembered daddy seeming so big before. "Ghetsis, I love you! Thank you!"

The hug didn't last nearly as long as N wanted, and he still never knew what came over him. His body moved on its own. As soon as he spat out his words, Ghetsis pushed him away, but he didn't look angry or upset over N's behavior. Instead, he reached up and stroked the side of N's face. "Remember. You have to do whatever I say. If you disobey me once, just once, you will not go outside, do you understand?"

And still, even though his words were threatening and he was completely serious, N smiled, feeling so light and... Happy. It was such a wonderful feeling. "I understand. Th-thank you, thank you. I'll do anything."

With that said, Ghetsis stood from his bed, making N feel even more uplifting when the bed shifted. Everything seemed so wonderful right now. It was like every single bad thing that ever happened was gone. This one thing, one tiny thing, his dream, it was becoming reality. It wasn't just a fantasy anymore, _it was really happening. _N's excitement couldn't be contained. As soon as Ghetsis closed his bedroom door, N shot up, racing toward his bathroom where he let Zorua out who jumped at his chest when he bent down to her.

"I'm going outside! I'm going outside! Zorua, it's really happening!" Zorua's tail wagged as she pawed at him and he hugged her. Happiness gave him so much energy. He felt like he could run and never have to stop.

Even doing lackluster things such as making his bed and picking up clothes felt fun. N had energy to spare, and he even danced as he cleaned, causing Zorua to hop around his feet playfully as she followed him like she normally did.

Everything seemed so much brighter all of a sudden. There was nothing bad about the world, N's world, everything seemed plain and simple and. Happy. Just happy. There was no other word for it.

N was happy.

* * *

As N cleaned, the day waned on, seeming so much faster than it usually did. Perhaps it was because he was having fun. It would've seemed weird to him, had he been viewing himself from a third person perspective, since he was not one to dance and sing as he did things, but he didn't care. All that mattered at that moment was _going outside_. He couldn't remember what the castle looked like, and it filled him with wonder and excitement knowing he would know very soon again. He would get to see the halls, more rooms, maybe even outside.

He absolutely couldn't wait anymore. After pining for this all of his life, after waiting for so long, to finally be told it would happen, N was beside himself.

After a few hours of cleaning, N's door opened and the doctor waltzed in. Cleaning had taken a lot longer than N realized. All of his dancing and singing and jumping around made it seem like minutes, not hours. But when the doctor entered, he stopped what he was doing and sat on his bed for his arm to be examined.

"Good afternoon, my lord. Have you been taking care of your arm?"

Still smiling, N nodded. "Yes. I've kept it dry and I haven't moved it like you told me."

As the doctor sat down next to N, he pulled up his small suitcase, popping it open to retrieve a pair of scissors. "I'm going to cut the wrapping off and then you tell me if it hurts to move."

N nodded, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he waited. It would be really nice to be able to use both arms again. He waited patiently as the wrappings were cut, coiling onto his bed as they dropped. Finally, his entire arm was free and the splints were removed.

"There. Try straightening it."

Slowly, N moved his arm forward. It felt a little sore since he hadn't used it in weeks, but, it felt great at the same time. It didn't hurt anymore. He flexed his fingers, grinning as he moved his arm back and forth. "It doesn't hurt."

"That's very good, my lord. No pain at all?"

"No, I feel great. Thank you." The butterflies continued to swarm around his stomach and just when he felt like he couldn't get anymore excited, N did. Finally, he could hug Zorua properly and cleaning wouldn't be such a hassle.

He was about to propel himself off the bed and rush to Zorua who was wandering around next to his bookshelf, but the doctor nabbed his shoulder. "Your father asked me to ask you if you have already showered today."

How...odd. A little confused, N nodded. Already he could feel the excitement burning out. Just mentioning his father made him depressed and he hated himself for it. He'd been so happy the entire day, but then he remembered what he'd said earlier to him. For N to be allowed outside, he had to do whatever daddy wanted. It didn't quite register with him at first, but now he realized and it made his stomach drop with nerves.

"Good, then I won't have to make a second trip. Please settle back down, I have something to give you."

Now his confusion was turning to worry as the doctor rummaged around in his suitcase. N almost felt stupid for the way he behaved earlier, but it felt really nice to be happy for once. But, it was gone and he had himself to blame for it. It was his fault, always his fault.

A needle was withdrawn from the case and N could feel the blood drain from his face at the sight of it. The doctor must've noticed his expression, because he smiled. "Please don't worry, my lord. This is your father's request. It will only feel like a pinch, I promise. He says you need this. Please, give me your arm."

N froze, eyes glued to the needle and the substance inside it. "What is that." It was something he'd never seen before, so of course N would be a little worried about it. He'd been stuck with needles before and had blood drawn just to make sure he was healthy, but never in all his years was he injected with something before daddy visited. It wasn't the pain that made him nervous, it was what the stuff would do to him. It scared him.

Not answering and since N wasn't showing signs of moving anytime soon, the doctor grabbed his arm, turning it over and holding it out straight. "You have nothing to be afraid of, my lord. This will calm you down. It will be good for you, I promise. I fixed your arm, didn't I? There's nothing to be scared of."

N flinched when his arm was grabbed. Then his body reacted on its own. In one swift motion, he snatched his arm back and held it against his chest like the doctor just burned him. "NO!" And he hadn't meant to say it so loud. "N-no. I don't want it."

"Lord N." He didn't even look angry or annoyed, but N couldn't figure out his expression. Sadness? Pity? "It is alright, I promise you. I have to do this. It's my job, and I'm sorry to say you don't have a choice."

N knew that. It wasn't like he ever had a choice in anything. It made him angry at everything, but mostly upset. "Please." Begging wouldn't help, he knew that, but-

"I'm sorry. This is my job. This will calm you down." And N never had a choice. Giving up, he allowed his arm to be taken again before the doctor stuck him. It didn't hurt. But the thought of the fluid going into him was enough to make him nauseous. "See, my lord? It's already over. You'll be feeling the affects in a little while, so if there is anything you need to do, please be quick about it. You're going to get sleepy in a little bit. You must sleep."

But, wasn't daddy coming in? Why put him to sleep? N looked up, his stomach coiling again with that horrible feeling. "Why?"

The doctor sighed before he stood and grabbed his suitcase. "Because that's what your father wants."

Of course. It was always about what daddy wanted. Whatever Ghetsis wanted, he got. That's how it always was and will always be. With no more words to say, N nodded, staring down at his feet, not even acknowledging Zorua when she brushed against his legs.

"Take care, Lord N."

N continued to stare at his feet long after the doctor left. His room was already clean, but he didn't think he could've worked up the energy to do anything else despite everything when he began to get sleepy. Zorua's tail brushed against his legs and he pat the empty spot next to him on the bed. Zorua hopped up next to him, rubbing on him like a cat would. He rubbed onto her with his newly healed arm, trying to muster a smile, but he couldn't. Not like it mattered. It wasn't like Zorua could tell when he smiled and when he didn't. Still, he liked smiling at her, because she gave him comfort and happiness. She was his only companion after all.

The longer he pet her, the more drowsy he got, until N couldn't shake it away anymore. Cuddling Zorua in both arms, he lay down on his side, everything going black.

* * *

What registered next with N was a strange bouncing motion. He could feel himself slowly coming back to the waking world, and the small movement of going up and down was prominent. Then, something warm wrapped under his knees and back, supporting him. Was-was he being carried? Footsteps were then recognized, right below him. They echoed and echoed and were so loud, he wanted to cover his ears so he could sleep more, but. His eyes opened then, and immediately shut. It was so bright, they were already watering and hurt. But he opened them again, squinting, trying to figure out what was going on. Then, a face became clear.

Daddy? The lights above him were so bright, he couldn't take it. Only a blur of colors could be made out as he tried to keep his eyes open. Gold and blue. Gold and blue-and water? Definitely a fountain or something of the sort, just out of his vision. Where was daddy taking him? He tried opening his mouth to speak, but it was like his entire mouth was full of glue. All that came out was a soft moan, and Ghetsis looked down at him when he made noise.

He looked angry. Oh n-no, that was already a bad sign. Even still groggy, N could see the anger so clearly on his face and he felt his heart pound in his chest, his stomach twisting in horror. What was happening? He was so confused. He just wanted answers. Nothing was making any sense right now and it frightened him a little.

"You weren't supposed to be awake right now. Shit, the doctor probably didn't give you the right amount." ...What? Oh god, N wished he had pretended to be asleep. Daddy was mad at him.

Ghetsis shifted as he carried him when they came to a door. N was held tight against his father's chest when he pushed the door open with his foot, and N found himself incased in darkness once again. Ghetsis leaned against the door, shutting it, blocking out the light from outside.

N could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Little by little, he was waking up, becoming more aware of what was happening and getting more scared. Was he...outside just now? It was so bright, he couldn't make out anything but a blur of colors. But then, where was he now? Where had daddy taken him?

"I shouldn't have to put up with this." There was light coming from somewhere in the room, but all N could make out was a lot of red. Or maybe it was his imagination. N bounced in his daddy's arms as he was carried across the room, then he was placed onto something soft. With his eyes finally open and adjusting to the dimness, N saw that he was in a large bed. The walls were too dark to distinguish a color, but he could make out a desk in one corner of the room, a large bookshelf, a dresser, a nightstand next to him emitting a little bit of light with a tiny lamp on it, and another door leading somewhere else. It was built just like his room, the furniture was just placed differently.

Was this daddy's room?

N felt his throat tighten until it felt like he couldn't breathe. Why-why was he in daddy's room? Why- Daddy came into view and N felt himself physically shudder. Daddy still looked mad when he pointed a finger at him. "You are not to move. I'll be back. If you move, you're going to regret it, do you understand?"

He didn't understand what was going on-_why was he here? Why was daddy-?_ He just. N slowly nodded, wanting to vomit again. This was scaring him. His lips were trembling too much for him to even speak, but daddy seemed satisfied with the nod and turned his back on him, crossing the large room where he began digging through a dresser.

N stayed where he was. He didn't dare move an inch. Breathe, breathe, he concentrated on remembering to breathe and ignoring _his stomach hurting and his heart pounding and-_breathe breathe. Be calm, it would be okay. He had to keep telling himself that. It would be okay.

The dresser was closed and Ghetsis turned back to him, holding something. N couldn't tell what it was from where he lay. "I still remember what you did last time, N. Do you?"

Breathe, breathe. N didn't know how to answer. Was it just a rhetorical question? He could never tell anymore. "I-"

"Which means I don't trust you. You disappointed me. But, you _have _been good the past few weeks, and I'm willing to be a little lenient with you." Closer and closer he walked until he was standing next to the side of the bed N was on. He could see now that his daddy was holding rope. N couldn't think. "Are you going to run again?"

No. No, no. It was loud in his head, but N couldn't seem to make the words come out. "I..." Nothing was coming out right and it frustrated him. He couldn't think, he couldn't-! No. "N-no sir."

Ghetsis smiled. "Really." He leaned down, almost smothering N when they kissed. Kissing should've been something normal. Daddy kissed him all the time, but N never got used to those lips on his, or his tongue coming out and licking his teeth. It was... He couldn't think. There was something wrong with everything, but he could never figure out what. Ghetsis inhaled his hair after he broke the kiss and it made N shudder again. He should've pretended to be asleep earlier. Something bad would happen, he knew it. Something bad always happened and N couldn't save himself. "I still don't trust you, N. I think you might run again."

N wasn't given time to respond, if he was even supposed to answer anyway, when daddy snatched up both hands, winding the rope around them and pulling them over his head where his wrists were bound to the railing of the headboard. N could feel the bile rise, but he bit it down. What was daddy going to do? What wouldn't he do, would've been a more appropriate thing to ask. Despite everything that had happened to him, N never stopped being afraid of new things. New things meant change and change always entailed misery when he had to learn something new for daddy. He just wanted everything to stop.

"Now." Ghetsis leaned off of him, standing straight as N stared at him. Would daddy hurt him? He could never stop wondering, he could never stop thinking about what would happen, because not knowing made him more afraid than anything. The fear of the unknown was worse than actually being beaten. "I think that will do for now. Even if you say you won't run, this will insure that." Ghetsis fumbled his robes for something. N stared with curiosity until he saw something shiny withdrawn, and then fear hit him like a slap in the face.

Terrified, N jumped, forgetting he was bound and crying out when he accidentally twisted his arms an awkward way. No, NO! HE WAS GOING TO DIE HE- He found his voice. "DADDY NO! NO, I'M SORRY! I-"

"Do you see, N? Look at yourself." As N struggled, Ghetsis positioned himself over his son until he was straddling him, holding the knife down low. "You said you wouldn't run, and now look at you. You're such a liar, N. This is why I don't trust you." Smirking, he held the knife upward. "If you keep moving around so much, you're going to make me cut you. You don't want that, do you, N? I can easily spill your guts all over this room with this, if you really want me to. This is your call, N. Calm down."

Calm down...Calm. N couldn't. It was strange to hear daddy say something like that, when he was holding a deadly weapon that could slice up N like butter. Seeing daddy hold something like that-N thought he was going to die. Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them away. No, no, if daddy saw him cry, he probably would kill him, then. "I-I'm sorry." Then what was the knife for, if not to kill him?

"You should be." With a quick flick, N's shirt was snatched up and the knife sliced through the front of the fabric, tearing it to shreds. Ghetsis continued sawing upward until N's shirt was ripped all the way in half, exposing his chest. It was cold in the room, and N was trapped. Plain and simple, there was literally no escaping this time, even if he did choose to run. Daddy was holding him down and he was tied to the bed. Nothing ever really felt this hopeless before, and it made N terrified.

Ghetsis leaned over him for a moment to set the knife on the nightstand to get it out of the way, then he moved back to N, staring at his naked chest that was fully exposed below him. "Let me ask you something." His hands trailed up the sides of N's stomach and he bit his tongue to keep from making noises. Daddy's hands were warm. "Do you even want to be king, N?"

It struck a nerve in him, long enough for N to forget he was being touched the way he was, a way that felt very dirty, and he was a little taken aback by it. The truth was, no. He didn't want to be king. It was a useless title he was going to be given that didn't even mean anything. He would be given no more power over his father than he had now. Daddy wasn't to know that, though. "Yes. I do." He sucked in air as Ghetsis's hands moved up his sides, over his stomach, over his chest. N never felt so vulnerable before.

"So you are still willing to be Team Plasma's king? When I let you out of here, you're going to take the crown, sit on the throne, and rule over this castle?" N had to stare at the ceiling past Ghetsis when his nipples were pinched. Ghetsis's words almost made him laugh. ...Almost. Authority and rule. What authority? Would N really be able to snap his fingers and have daddy stop everything he was doing? No, he knew that. N knew.

"Yes, Ghetsis. I want to be king." Even though it was a lie. A horrible lie. Maybe N's fantasy was too far-fetched, to be let out and then just run away. It seemed impossible, but the more he thought on it, the more he thought it could actually work. Once let out, he would search for an exit, and then make his move when nobody expected him to. Simple.

Leaning down, Ghetsis kissed him again, but N gave himself up this time. It always hurt less to do things Ghetsis's way. If he was happy, then N didn't suffer. "Why do you want to be king?"

Because.

N closed his eyes as he was kissed, not given a chance to answer. The room didn't feel so cold anymore. His arms were starting to ache from being held behind him, and he could feel his wrists chafing when he tried to wriggle in the binds. But still, daddy kissed him, licking the insides of his mouth and N made sure to keep his eyes slammed shut. He didn't want to watch when this happened.

Because daddy said so, was his first thought. From the start, it was all Ghetsis's idea. Become king and start the process of liberating pokemon from evil people. People who had hurt Zorua. Because there were horrible people in the world, people who only cared about themselves and it was N's job to save the innocent pokemon.

But since he didn't want to be king anymore, did that make him selfish? To get away from daddy and leave and not have to worry about the scary moments like this, N knew he was being selfish. He just didn't want to be hurt anymore. Why did that have to make him selfish?

"I-" Another kiss, this one swift before Ghetsis moved to his neck and sucked. "I want to stop evil people."

"You want to save creatures like Zorua? The ones who are being hurt?" His chest was sucked on, and N had to almost bite the blood from his lip to keep from flinching or cowering away.

"Y-yes."

"That's what I've been telling you all of your life, N. But." He leaned up, staring N in the eye before he brushed some of his hair away from his face. "The way you've been acting lately, it's like you don't even want this anymore."

N didn't know how to react. What to say, or do. Not that he could do anything, but- "I-"

"I mean, look at you. Didn't you promise me earlier you would do _anything_? You do remember saying that, don't you?"

N shivered, swallowing. _What was he supposed to say? What did daddy want?_ "Ghetsis, I-"

"Look at you. You should see yourself." A single finger was slid across N's stomach and he shivered. "You flinch whenever I touch you. You're afraid of me, even though you said you would do anything, you're still trying to defy me."

"No!" No, no, no! This was- NO! N was going to ruin his chances of going outside! "I will! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, _I will do anything, please!_" His voice softened, and even Ghetsis looked a little surprised by his outburst. Swallowing, N spoke again, fearing he'd made his father angry by raising his voice. "I'm sorry. I-I'll do anything. I want to be king, I want to go outside."

Ghetsis smirked, seeming to be amused by this. "You're going to remember what you've said, N." Before N could mull the words over, Ghetsis moved off of him a little so that he wasn't sitting on his legs completely, his fingers moved down to N's pants where he fiddled with the zipper. "You are beautiful, N. But, you can be the biggest fucking liar and that makes you ugly." N watched as his zipper was yanked down, and he moved out of reflex, but the ropes held him in place, and there was nothing he could do but watch as Ghetsis pulled his pants off.

It hit him then. What daddy had done those few weeks ago. Did N forget or was he just stupid? It only just came back to him, and he began to feel the fear shoot through him. Daddy had hurt him, he had hurt him and it made N terrified, because. Because he could remember now, he remembered it was worse than being hit, or punched or kicked or even bit. All he could remember was screaming when daddy told him not to, but he couldn't help it. There was no way he couldn't have held that in, even if he tried his hardest, because it hurt so much, it hurt, it was like his body had been torn in half.

Tears came, because daddy was going to do it again. And now N was completely trapped, bound to the bed, held under his father by both his body and influence. If N ran then he wouldn't go outside. But was the pain really worth it? He really, really didn't want to go through that again, he thought it was over, but-!

"D-daddy." N didn't realize when he said it, but his voice was shaking, his words spat out as he stuttered. He could almost literally feel his body dropping in horror as he watched his father remove his own pants. No, no, daddy was going to hurt him! Ghetsis's expression was angry when he looked up, but N couldn't think about making daddy happy right now. "Are..." NO! He just-! Make it stop, please, _please_, N wanted this all to stop. "What are you doing?"

Tossing his pants to the floor, Ghetsis seemed annoyed, and N could fully see his father now and it scared him. Daddy... "You're in no position to ask me that."

But.

N was in shock. This couldn't be happening, not again, not god damn again, not after he just went through this only weeks before. Why did this keep happening? He hated it, he hated it! Tears formed, and then fell. Daddy didn't seem to care about them. If N didn't know better, it looked like he was smiling, as if he liked it. "But. Why? I'm sorry. I just. I want to know."

It was stupid to ask questions, but N couldn't help it. And he deserved to know, more than anything. He at least deserved a reason.

Instead of answering him, Ghetsis reached forward, making N gasp when he grabbed him, and N flinched when he was squeezed. No, this wasn't happening. It _couldn't _be. It had to be a nightmare, just some sick and horrible nightmare. Slowly, Ghetsis rubbed up and down, and N felt-no. No, he didn't feel anything. "You want to know why, of all things. Haven't I told you that already, N?" As he spoke, Ghetsis continued to stroke him, and N shifted uncomfortably in his binds. His wrists hurt so much... "It's because you're a slut, N. You like it when I do things to you." ...No. N had to stare at the wall, at anything but daddy. "You like it when I hit you, when I bite you so hard, you bleed. You like it when I yank on your hair and throw you to the ground, because you're dirt. You're a slut who likes it. And you like this, too."

No.

No, N-just-no. No, no, no, he knew daddy was wrong. Why would he say those things? B-but. It did feel good. After awhile, after they stopped talking and Ghetsis stroked him up and down, it did, it did feel good and N hated himself for it. Because Ghetsis was right. But this was a different feeling than being hit or bit. N hated pain, and this wasn't pain.

If anything, it was worse, because it was a feeling, a good feeling that shouldn't have been associated with daddy. Daddy did not make him feel good, daddy hurt him. But steadily, N grew hard in his father's hands, and he wanted to kill himself for it, because it was just proving Ghetsis's point.

And when he pumped it just right, N felt a tingling sensation that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. No, this was wrong, it shouldn't be feeling good! Daddy should've been hurting him, not doing this. It was such a foreign feeling, but. It felt good, so good. And N couldn't deny it. He just wished Ghetsis would stop, because it scared him to feel this way, to crave more of this wonderful feeling, this feeling like no other. It felt like an itch that needed to be satisfied, and he hated it.

"Why are you hard, N?" Something warm oozed out, and coated Ghetsis's hands, only intensifying the feeling as he pumped. No, no! N didn't want this to feel good! At least make it hurt, please. Make it hurt. At least then, he wouldn't feel guilty for liking it. "Is it because you love this?"

"P-please." N couldn't take it anymore. If Ghetsis didn't stop, he felt like he would explode.

"Please what, N? Do you want me to do it harder?" Smiling, Ghetsis pumped harder and N let out a moan. O-oh god. His face flushed with shame. He was so dirty.

"N-no, please. No more."

"But you like it, N. You say stop, but your body likes it. You aren't beautiful when you lie."

God dammit, N was frustrated. He could feel his toes curl when the feeling became almost overwhelming. No! N was scared, he didn't want this! _It wasn't right._

And then it stopped. And N absolutely hated himself for missing the feeling. Instead of stroking him, Ghetsis wrapped his fingers around him, making N wince. "I really hate it when you lie, N. Actually, I'm a little tired of hearing your voice altogether." Leaning over N again to reach his nightstand, Ghetsis pulled back the drawer on it and fished out a roll of duct tape, tearing off a small piece. "If you hate this so much, then don't cum." N wanted to cry when daddy held his face in place and stuck the tape over his mouth. He was shaking again, in shame and embarrassment. How could he let this happen? How could he let daddy do this to him?

Daddy moved back to the position he was in earlier, back to N where he began stroking him. N couldn't take it anymore. Now that the feeling was back, it was like the itch that needed to be satisfied was even worse. He felt starved for this, and he wanted more, he did, he wanted more. Small moans made their way out, muffled by his gag, and Ghetsis smiled.

"I'm surprised you've lasted this long, N. You're more durable than I imagined." Coating his hand in some of the precum seeping out, he stroked N harder, making him wince and moan over and over.

And then N felt the itch get harder, more starved than ever, it was like it was climbing higher _and higher and-_The feeling intensified, and N couldn't control himself. Moaning into his gag, he let himself explode all into his father's hands. It was a feeling of blacking out, of complete and utter peace.

It felt like nothing was wrong.

But, it didn't last. As soon as the amazing feeling came, it went, and N found himself sweating, breathing hard, coming out of the wonderful haze he was just in. As much as he hated himself for it, he didn't want it to end. In just those few wonderful seconds, everything felt okay.

But nothing was okay anymore. As he lay exhausted on the bed, breathing in and out, in and out, his father shifted below him, and in the back of N's mind, he knew what was about to happen. He couldn't prepare himself for it, mentally or physically, he knew that. Holding back the tears, he stared at the ceiling when Ghetsis held him up by his thighs and pushed into him.

It was just like last time. Exactly like last time. He was being torn apart and he screamed, the sound coming out as a stifled muffle through his gag. The wonderful feeling from earlier was shot down and forgotten instantly and N knew nothing was okay anymore. All there was was pain. That's all there ever was anymore.

When he smelled blood, N knew it would get a little better, because blood lubed his father as he moved back out, going back in. It was strange for him to be going so slow, but N hated it. He wished he would just get it over with, not torture him like this. Back out. Maybe the worst part was over, it still hurt, because he was bleeding, he had been ripped and sliced open, so maybe he was already growing numb. N didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't take his mind away. Pain kept him from fantasizing, it trapped him and made him deal with it. Back in. Pain, pain, searing hot, it made him forget to breathe, and he couldn't hold in the winces and cries he made.

Stop, stop, _STOP, STOP! _It was repeated over and over again in his head when daddy began to go faster, in and out, in and out, creating a rhythm. Instead of the slow, unpredictable thrusts, N could expect everything now, and he slammed his eyes shut, waiting for it to be over, just trying to breathe and wait. It was all he could do, because it hurt. Daddy began to moan, and N knew it wouldn't be long before it was over, even though it felt like it was lasting forever.

Then something he couldn't wrap his mind around, no matter how hard he tried. As daddy gained more speed, in and out, in and out, he reached forward, grabbing onto N again, and N felt like his entire body sunk with horror. No. Daddy began pumping him. No. N couldn't deal with this, NO! WHY? WHY WAS DADDY DOING THIS? _N DIDN'T WANT TO BE HERE!_

The feeling, the good and wonderful feeling from earlier began to slowly come back and N cried. He finally let it all out, sobbing uncontrollably when it began to feel good and he could ignore the pain and what daddy was doing. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was so... Daddy gripped him too hard, but N couldn't hold in the moan. It was good. A feeling so opposite to pain. It wasn't right, it wasn't- Harder, and harder, N could feel that amazing itch climbing, almost screaming in his ears, louder _and louder._

Daddy moaned as something warm shot into him, and N couldn't control himself. He made involuntary noises, moans, choking, as he let himself explode, spasming onto the bed and arching back.

Wonderful, so good. That blacking out feeling made him forget everything. Pain. Being afraid. Nothing hurt, nothing was wrong. Daddy loved him. He did.

Daddy was leaning over him now, his expression foreign to N when he yanked the tape off his mouth. It didn't hurt that much. N felt numb. When the tape was removed, Ghetsis leaned down, kissing him again. N just wanted sleep. He was so tired, physically and...he just didn't want to do this anymore. He was tired of daddy.

Ghetsis retrieved the knife from the nightstand again, cutting the ropes from N's wrists. They were sore, but N didn't pay much attention to them. After the knife was put away once more, Ghetsis did what he so rarely ever did. Wrapping his arms around N's abused and exhausted body, he was pulled into him, held tight against his chest.

N could remember when Anthea pulled him into her arms like this. It felt warm and loving and...safe. This wasn't safe. This felt trapping, suffocating. It felt like he was going to be squeezed to death when Ghetsis hugged him. But, daddy loved him, right?

The last N remembered was being laid gently back down onto the bed, a blanket pulled over him, and daddy wrapping his arm around him as he lay next to him.

There were no more tears to cry, because this was love, wasn't it? This was daddy's love.

* * *

**Thank you to all the people who have reviewed so far. It makes my day seeing those things in my inbox.**


	7. Chapter 7

**IT'S SHORT I KNOW AND I'M SORRY. I was rushed and just wanted to get it out to let you guys know I wasn't dead and 100% again since my surgery.**

* * *

N was used to waking up with his room freezing. He didn't know why his room was always cold, or why Ghetsis insisted it stay that way. All he knew was that everyday since he could remember coming to this castle, everything was cold. Which is why when he woke up next to warmth, his mind screamed out to him that something was wrong.

As the haze of sleep left him and N opened his eyes, he wanted to shut them again, to assure himself he was having a nightmare. Just a bad dream that would go away when he opened his eyes next. Ghetsis's arm was slumped over his stomach, making N feel very trapped, and his face was completely peaceful. It felt strange seeing his father in such a position, completely vulnerable and not angry. He looked almost normal while he slept. N was used to seeing his brow furrowed, and his mouth glued into a frown. Not this. It was scary. Right now, N wanted to leave.

As he shifted, N felt a dull pain throb below him and he bit his lip to keep from wincing. The pain brought up horrible memories, but-N couldn't afford to think about them right now. Nothing was wrong, everything was going to be okay. It had to be, N had to tell himself that. Again, he moved his legs, the pain making it unbearable and he let out a small yelp. The noise brought his father out of sleep and N found himself staring into those red eyes once again. N wanted to hit himself for waking his father, but what would he have done anyway? Leave? Ha. N couldn't leave. He knew that.

Forcing a smile and ignoring the throbbing below him, N greeted his father. "Good morning, Ghetsis." The smile hurt, but N had to do it. If Ghetsis knew he was thinking terrible thoughts or even thinking of escaping, N would be hit. Because being hit meant he was a bad person. Ghetsis wasn't an unloving father or abusive. N was just a bad person who deserved it. He knew that now. Even if the thoughts of escape ran through his mind, N shoved them away. It was hopeless, so he might as well shackle himself to his life and live this way. Because daddy loved him so, so much. It all made perfect sense now. The pain he felt was love and he could smile because he was loved.

Surprisingly, Ghetsis smiled back, reaching over and stroked the sides of N's face. Ghetsis was nice to him. "You're such a good boy."

N beamed. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No." As he spoke, Ghetsis sat up, the sheets dropping from his body and N felt his throat tighten with fear at the fact that his father was naked. Why did seeing such a sight make him afraid? N was so stupid. This was normal, completely normal. He shouldn't be scared, but he was. Once his father rose from bed, N tried to do the same, but the pain made him wince again and anger flashed through him. Why was this so hard?! It shouldn't be hurting this much, but he couldn't help himself. Slowly, he moved again, trying to ignore everything that hurt. His arms were sore from being held behind him, his wrists were chafed from being tied, and that searing pain under him made everything worse. But it was his fault. And he just had to deal with it. Because everything was okay, it was. Nothing was wrong.

Ghetsis entered the other door in the room, which N now discovered led to a bathroom, and the shower was turned on. With Ghetsis gone for the moment, N surveyed the room again. There were no windows, just like his room, but the lamp on the bedside table made everything bright. N's attention was focused on the bedroom door. Unlike his room, he guessed this door didn't lock from the outside. Ghetsis had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. N wished he had freedom like that. Maybe since he did this for daddy, maybe he would get to go outside now? Ghetsis did say if he did whatever he told him, he'd get to go out. And N tried very, very hard to do as he was told.

How easy it would be to stand and leave. Walk right out that door and into the world N craved to see so much. It was completely simple. Move. He shifted, trying to ignore the pain. Move, move. Sit. It hurt, god, it hurt. It was love, love hurt. Stand. His legs were like jello and refused to obey him. Just stand and walk. The door was right there. N could leave. He could run, he could leave this horrible nightmare behind him, if he really wanted.

And he did. He wanted that so much. So bad, he could almost taste it, because _the door was right there. _All he had to do was _MOVE!_

But.

Everything hurt. The memory from before when he tried to run came crashing back. Ghetsis would catch him, and N would be beaten. That's how it would happen, he knew. Despite his thoughts, he moved again, trying to stand, running on shear willpower and what little strength he had left.

His muscles ached from the strain and N fell back against the bed when he eased off of it. Stand. He couldn't. N couldn't stand. He couldn't walk out the door, because everything hurt too much. It hurt just to move. Not even physically, it was like there was a weight on top of him, keeping him held down, where he couldn't run. Where it wouldn't let him.

Tears came to his eyes. Because yes, yes, YES, HE WANTED TO LEAVE! N WANTED TO BE FREE! N wanted-!

He wanted Ghetsis to be gone. Please. He wanted daddy out of his life. Or. N wanted to be out of his daddy's life. It would be better that way, for both of them.

The tears fell, and N felt lower than dirt at that moment. Why lie to himself like this? He could tell himself all day long that things were really okay, but he knew the reality. Things were okay, but then they weren't. It was just a vicious war his mind waged over and over again until his head throbbed. The weight on his chest felt suffocating until he was choking on his sobs. Crying, crying, letting it out.

Because he couldn't stand and run away. Even when it was right there in front of him. Maybe if Ghetsis hadn't-maybe if nothing had happened last night, he could've mustered the energy and willpower to move. But he couldn't, and it crashed down upon him like a physical weight would, and it made his chest pound in agony.

There was no leaving. Ever.

Even if he had a plan before, what good would it do? Just pick up Zorua and leave, right? That had been the plan.

Ha. He almost wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. Not that he had to. Maybe Ghetsis doing this to him was punishment enough. N was so stupid. Really. What a waste of space he was. He wasn't anything but some used up piece of trash who let his daddy play with him like some toy that could be disposed of.

N was garbage. Used and expendable.

It hurt to cry now. With this pressure on him, this pain in his chest, he felt like he was going to explode in a fit of sobs, just to relieve the pain and let everything out.

Everything.

Because everything was over. Daddy had raped him, he did, N knew that. He was stupid, but he knew that now. Daddy had raped him. Daddy used him and beat him when things didn't go his way and N was going to die here. All alone.

No.

He was going to die with daddy. If this continued for the rest of his life, that's what would happen, he knew it. This would happen whenever Ghetsis wanted, and soon N would be grown up. And it would still happen.

He couldn't breathe. The tears on his face were hot and fell down his face against his will. He couldn't stop them, no matter how much he yelled to himself to shut up, daddy would hear, he would hit him. But that's what N deserved. He deserved to be hit for being so god damn stupid.

Placing his hands over his face to hide himself, N cried. It made him feel small and somehow safe, to hide. It was just a lie though. Like his life. But he cried and cried, letting everything out. He couldn't hold it in anymore, even if he tried. It felt good to let everything out.

Then the shower stopped. After some shuffling around in the other room, the door opened with a loud squeak and even though N was facing away from him, he knew his father was standing just mere feet behind him. The thought alone made him afraid, because he didn't want to be here, and he was still crying. Ghetsis would hit him. N let his hands down from his face, the room blurry through his tears.

"What are you doing?"

The malice in his father's voice was too clear and it made N's body stiffen with terror. The feeling should have been second nature by now. N should have been used to it, but he wasn't, and he knew he never would be.

"I asked you a question."

"I-I am-" And curse his stuttering. He couldn't help it. His brain refused to work when he was nervous. Every rational thought sank.

"Look at me."

N knew better than to disobey. Even with his face wet with tears, it was inevitable. Stupidity on his part, and if Ghetsis chose to slap him or kick him or bite him-then that was punishment N would have to deal with.

Turning, N tried to swallow, but his throat was too tight. The expression Ghetsis had at the sight of his tear streaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes was pure anger, as if N had betrayed him. Crying was forbidden, and N had done it anyway, knowing that.

In a blur of speed, like it happened in milliseconds, Ghetsis was on top of him, having shoved him into the bed, and N's body felt like it was on fire. Every ache from before, every sensitive area felt like his father just smashed it in and N screamed. N's head was slammed against the headboard and his face lolled to the side when Ghetsis slapped him. The pain below him was too much to handle, everything was. Crying, sobbing, screaming, N was slapped over and over, his father having straddled him at some point.

Ghetsis screamed at him as he slapped his face, punching N in the stomach when he held his arms up to protect himself. "YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED YOU PROMISED! YOU-" The rest of his words were drowned out by N's own screams as he was beat.

Even when he knew it was hopeless, N cried back out to his father. Trying to somehow, anyway, end this. "DADDY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, DADDY! DADDY, _I LOVE YOU! D-DADDY_!" It didn't work. It never helped, and when it felt like Ghetsis would never stop, he suddenly backed off, his breathing rough.

N could tell he had another black eye, bruises on his face, his arms, scratches. Everything was a blur to see through the tears that fell still, this time from pain. His skin stung like he'd been thrown into hot lava. The momentary relief that should have been there wasn't, and there was no calm after the storm, only strain and horrible fear that... that daddy would finally kill him. And honestly, N didn't care anymore.

Reaching forward, almost like he read his mind, Ghetsis wrapped all ten fingers around N's throat, squeezing, squeezing, and N stared up into his father's face in horror. Out of reflex, his own fingers came up to try and pry his father's off of him, but it was no use. His father was very, very strong.

"You fucking-_fucking _shit." Squeezing harder, Ghetsis pressed onto N with his entire body, making it even more difficult to breathe and N could feel every cell in his brain screaming at him to _do something, you're going to die! _But he couldn't. He tried to scream, to scream as loud as he could in hope that someone passing by outside would come and save him, but all that came out was a choked gasp. "You think this is bad, N? After everything I've done for you? You aren't worthy of being my son. I should kill you right now." As he spoke, he picked up N by his throat and bashed his head back against the headboard, making N sob and choke, still clawing at his father's hands. "It's your fault. Everything is your fault. God DAMMIT, IT'S YOUR FAULT!" Again, N was slammed into the headboard, his vision going black, both from lack of oxygen and the pain. He was going to die, he was going to die.

"D-da...ddy..." He looked up pleadingly at his father, begging solely with his eyes to please, PLEASE STOP, HE LOVED HIM!

Ghetsis eased off, releasing his neck and N reached up, massaging the already sore flesh as he gulped down air like he was truly breathing for the first time.

He was still alive. Still alive. Wonderful air, filling his lungs, it never felt so beautiful before. And N was sorry, he was, he wa-

"Why did you have to do this to me." It wasn't said as a question. Ghetsis slumped back, his eyes focused on the folds in the blankets. He didn't even appear to be talking to N. "You're so beautiful, it isn't fair. You look just like her, too. Just _fucking _like her." Turning back, he stared at his son and all N could do was hold his throat protectively, like his father would strike again, and breathe, live, and wait for everything to go back to normal. Normal. "You have her everything." Reaching over, this time Ghetsis stroked his face. "Her long hair, her face, her eyes, her nose. She was perfect, and you are perfect."

N stiffened at the touch. To be touched tenderly after something so violent, it was enough to send his mind in a frenzy and he wanted to cry again, but NO! He couldn't, no, no, no, stop. Please, he couldn't.

Then Ghetsis bent down, kissing him. N remained absolutely still, his eyes staring straight ahead. Why was this happening?

Ghetsis's arms came up, touching him gently again, stroking the sides of his arms, moving up to his hair and running his fingers through it. It was scary how his daddy could be so horrible one second, then loving the next. "You are beautiful, N. You _are_. You are beautiful and perfect." He kissed his cheek, then his forehead, his fingers still playing with his hair. "You are my son. You are mine. Mine."

There was something about his father's words N couldn't wrap his brain around. Fear kept him from thinking clearly, but everything confused him, frustrated him, but the basic survival traits still surfaced. Even if he wanted daddy to kill him, when it actually began to happen, N wanted to survive, to leave, not to go out like this. It wasn't something he could control. Something just there, his inner instincts telling him to live, breathe, function as a human.

Ghetsis kissed him again, his body lying almost completely on top of him now. "You are mine. Don't you dare think any differently, N. You are my son."

When he lifted once more, everything felt the same again. Daddy wasn't angry anymore, N had been punished, and things would be okay again. But it felt even more hopeless than ever, from N's view. Staring up at his father, his hair wet and shiny from being washed, his body still dripping with water, his face calm once more, his hands still through N's hair.

Trapped.

N was trapped, and the way daddy spoke...he just couldn't handle it anymore. Tears clouded his eyes, but he didn't dare let them fall. There had to be a way to...he had to do something, to make things better. Anything.

So he smiled. Again, it hurt, it hurt so bad to fake that stupid smile, but he did it anyway. And when daddy's hand rested on his face, N reached up, touching it, smiling. "I love you, daddy, I love you." Please don't hurt him anymore, please, _please_. "I'm sorry, I was wrong. It was my fault. I'm sorry." Please, don't kill him. Please. "I love you, daddy." Let everything end. N would be a good son, he would love Ghetsis and do whatever he wanted, just please.

Don't let him hurt. Please make it so daddy wouldn't hurt him. N would be a good son, a son his father would be proud of. Let daddy love him.

Ghetsis reached down, kissing him again, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him up. N returned the hug, slamming his eyes shut so the tears would not fall. "I love you, daddy. I'm sorry." His voice choked when the words came out.

It was the final stage. If N had to do this in order to survive, he would. He was completely shackled now, shackled to daddy, loving daddy, doing everything in his power to please daddy and make him happy. Everything.

Daddy hugged him tighter, not saying a word.

When at last N felt like he'd been inhaling the scent of shampoo in his father's hair forever, they broke apart, Ghetsis staring at the floor before he spoke. "You should bathe."

N nodded, not speaking. His voice ached from screaming earlier and he needed to preserve it for later. If it cracked or broke when he talked, it would be unpleasant, both physically and he didn't need to think of horrible things anymore. Things would be okay, they really would.

As N tried to ease off the bed, he found the pain from earlier was losing its sting. Everything felt like a dull throb instead, but that was good. Anything to think of good things from now on, and N was grateful for it. While trying to move off the bed, Ghetsis stopped him by looping his arms under his knees and back, lifting him into his arms. It should have terrified N the way his father could be so strong, lifting him like it was effortless, but he felt shame instead. So scrawny, he was lifted with no strain. What kind of person was he to be weak like this? Was that even qualified as weakness? N wished he were big and strong like daddy. He could remember being young and looking up at daddy like he was a giant, and N wanted to be like that. The years were kind to him, he was already getting taller everyday, and maybe one day, he would be as tall as Ghetsis.

Moving away from the bed, Ghetsis carried him into the bathroom before placing him in the tub and N didn't question why his father thought it was necessary for him to be...coddled. If that were even the proper word for it. N stared at his toes when the water was turned on, washing over his feet and ankles, already making him feel more clean and comfortable. He wished Ghetsis would at least leave so he could wash himself, but that wasn't happening, he found as daddy poured some purple goop into the water, causing a strong scent to fill the air. N recognized the smell as the same stuff he was forced to wash his hair with, the really strong scent. Lavender? It always made him feel sick, but he didn't dare show emotion, even when Ghetsis picked up a sponge and began washing him.

It was degrading. For him, a 14-year-old boy to sit there in a tub full of bubbles and be bathed by his father. He could feel his cheeks burn in embarrassment, shame. Not that there was anything he could do about it. Everything he'd ever been through felt like this, though. Growing his hair out made him feel like a girl and he hated it. Daddy bathing him made him feel incompetent. Daddy raping him made him- Water was squeezed from the sponge onto his hair, and the scent was overpowering at that point. N wanted to vomit and rid his body of every horrible feeling from the nausea, to the embarrassment, to the awful thoughts he was thinking of daddy. It was his fault this was happening, so he just had to suck it up. At least he was being cleaned now, even if not by his own hands. And daddy bathed him like a parent would a toddler, grabbing his arms and forcing them up and telling him what to do. N had absolutely no control.

He was weak. For something like this, to be bathed and bossed around like this, he didn't feel like a person. Daddy already made him feel like less of a man by making him grow his hair out, but to be stripped of all power completely until he was ordered around, his arms and legs manipulated by daddy as he cleaned him, N felt like a dog. Lower than dirt, not even an animal. Not a person, definitely. Even physically while he was cleaned, he lowered his head, submissive, while daddy towered over him, continuing to move his body around like a puppet.

But no matter how many times that soapy sponge was dragged across his bruised and scratched body, it couldn't clean everything. It couldn't take back what daddy did. N was still used and torn, and that's the way he would stay forever. Just damaged goods.

At last the plug was pulled and N watched as the water drained away, the strong scent finally dying down. Though smeared onto his skin now, it was better than having it fill the air. Ghetsis lifted him again, as if N were incapable of walking period, but he didn't mind. Maybe Ghetsis knew he was sore and he was just making things easier for him? N could think that way. It was a nice way of thinking.

Daddy was warm next to him and even though N was naked and vulnerable, the warmth felt good. He was held close, and Ghetsis spoke. "Are you ready to go outside?"

He was a good boy. N was a good son. He smiled. "Yes, Ghetsis."

* * *

**N finally fucking goes outside next chapter. I didn't mean for that to take as long as it did, but whatever. Actually, a lot of things that weren't planned happened in this chapter. Oh well. I gave you abuse, now I hold out my hands and beg for a sexy review. **


	8. Chapter 8

"You look nice."

It was a strange sort of thing for him to hear. N never could get used to his daddy telling him things like that. Nice things, good things, positive things. All the time, he was called beautiful for his appearance, and it bothered him. It was just a word, but the way it was said-

"Thank you." No, he couldn't let his mind wander like that. There were more important things happening right now. Even if it bothered him, he could swallow it and stomach it, or better yet, just forget about it.

N stood in front of his father's mirror, dressed in clothes he wasn't used to. A long robe draped over his tall frame, covering most of his body. Clothes fit for a king? But they were so plain, just white in color, no decorations or anything elaborate. It's as if his father merely tore a sheet off his bed and threw it around him.

But N smiled, grateful for his father's compliment. So what if it was strange, they were still clothes, and just like everything else, he'd get used to them.

Ghetsis stood behind him, towering over him, dressed in his sage robes, the golden and purple ones. He reached over to hold N in place by his shoulders, bending down behind him until his face was next to his. "Are you ready? Let's go."

N smiled, a genuine smile. "Yes sir." Outside. Finally, outside. Something that used to be a dream, now a reality. It was almost too good to be true, but N embraced it, welcomed it, and smiled as his father led him away from the mirror to his bedroom door, his hand gripping his shoulder tightly to keep N beside him.

Everything was happening too slowly for N. When his father reached forward to grab the handle and turn it, it felt like it lasted for hours, not seconds. He could feel his heart pounding so hard, it almost hurt in his chest, but he was too excited. All the wonder and questions he'd ever thought in his entire life, everything would be okay when he went outside. He'd get to see the castle, look out windows, see trees and flowers and smell the grass again. No, he hadn't completely forgotten anything, and it was like he was being reunited with an old, old friend. Something familiar, now tangible, just in his reach.

When the door swung open, the light from outside blinded him, causing him to flinch and shield his eyes. Such brightness, it was incredible. Gradually, he became accustomed to the light and was able to open his eyes without them watering. The hallway he stood in was bright from the chandeliers that hung above, making the blue and gold colors on the floor seem to sparkle. The hallway stretched on in both directions, leading to staircases that went up and down. If N had to sum up everything in one word, it would be elegant. Pictures, text, everything he'd read and looked at that described castles from the inside, was this. Like his books had come to life, it was-he couldn't even think. The feeling of finally being outside was enough to make his heart soar and he smiled, just smiled like a child being given a new toy.

Even the flowers that lined the hallway, the pink and pretty flowers that he could smell from where he was, was incredible. A sweet, soft smell, so unlike the lavender his father made him bathe with. It was nice.

"It's beautiful."

N couldn't take in his surroundings enough. Every turn of his head, every twitch of his eyes, it felt like he found something new to stare at, even though from a glance, everything looked the same, it was just too much for him. Everything was so new to him, he couldn't stop smiling about every little thing. He wanted to hold his daddy's hand, point at things like a child, and tell him to look, look at that, it's so beautiful, can you believe it? Even though the floor under his bare feet was cold, nothing could put a damper on his mood right then. Things were okay and felt right for once.

As he tried to move forward, his goal being to explore the castle in its entirety, to head to those stairs and look at everything he possibly could, Ghetsis gripped his shoulder, jerking him back. "No." And it was such a simple rejection, but it held the same weight as a physical slap or kick to his stomach might have.

"But-" And he_ couldn't help it, he just-! _N deserved this, he wanted to see everything! Why was daddy being so cruel to him? Hadn't N done everything he was supposed to? Everything Ghetsis wanted, he got, and N handed it over to him against his will, because he wanted to see the outside so bad, he gave up everything for him. Why wasn't that enough?

N could tell he'd made him angry, and he was sorry, but-at the same time, he felt justified. How could daddy do this to him, when everything was right here for N to take? It was...N could feel tears come to his eyes and he was a baby for it, but- "Stop acting like you are, N." Ghetsis's words were spat out like they were layered with poison. They stung, they always hurt, even if he wasn't insulting his son, it never failed that N always felt lower than dirt when his father spoke to him. "Do you really want your subjects to see their future king acting like this? You look like a freak the way you're behaving. You're going to stand by my side and I will escort you where I want you to be, do you understand?"

N felt betrayed by the words, hurt, lied to. But when Ghetsis asked him a question, N was to comply without arguing. If there was anything daddy taught him, it was that his word was law, and whether N liked it or not, if he didn't want to be hurt, he had to abide by those laws. With his smile fading and his excitement, while still there, diminishing, N nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good." Removing his hand from N's shoulder, Ghetsis instead grabbed onto his hand, linking their fingers together. "You will not go anywhere without me unless I tell you otherwise. If you try and leave my side, you will be punished."

N nodded. "Yes sir. I understand." It sickened him how robotic he'd become, but he had no other choice. Ghetsis squeezed his hand tight when they began to walk toward one of the staircases leading upward. N had to walk fast in order to keep up with his daddy's long strides. Despite Ghetsis's threats and warnings, N was able to swallow it down and smile as they walked. This place was still new to him, and he would take in as much of the newness as he could by sight, smell, and feeling. N had to memorize everything right away. Like the chandeliers. Their design was rather simple for a castle, but he wasn't complaining. They brightened the hallway and he could see everything, so unlike his room with the one little lamp. The flowers made everything smell nice and added more color to the golden and blue on the floor. As they neared the staircase, N could feel his smile widen as he spotted a small fountain near the bottom of the stairs. Water poured from a large hole in the wall, and...it looked a little out of place, but it was still unusual and interesting for him to look at. If he wanted, he could've lifted his robes and stepped in the water. It looked fun, but. But Ghetsis would be mad.

The fountain went out of view as Ghetsis led him up the stairs, the light growing dim as they went under an unlit area, but it brightened once again as they came out at the top, another long hallway, this one lined with flags meeting them. The flowers that lined this hallway were more extravagant than the simple pink ones below, and the lights that hung above were more decorative and bright. By looks alone, it appeared this was a more important (if that were the right word) place.

N was given no chance to look around before Ghetsis began walking toward a single large doorway in the middle of the hall, yanking on his hand to get him to follow. A little annoyed his father wouldn't let him stop long enough to gawk at everything, but compliant, N struggled to keep up as they neared the large doorway. From where he was standing, N was completely in awe at that point when he saw the room on the inside. A large, open area with a series of steps and rugs that lead to a single chair could be seen. On either side was a shallow pool of water, bordering the room, sparkling from the lights that hung above.

Ghetsis tugged him forward while N stared at the pool of water. It looked so nice, and his childishness was getting the better of him. He wanted to jump in and splash around, just have some fun.

"Take a seat."

Before N realized it, they had approached the large chair which looked bathed in gold, though that could've just been from the lights. A little hesitant, N seated himself, shifting to get comfortable when Ghetsis finally let go of his hand. The chair was large and if Ghetsis had wanted, he probably could've sat next to him, but instead, he moved to the side, once again nabbing N's shoulder.

"Look at this room, N. I want you to take everything in. Isn't it just like everything you've ever wanted? Haven't you wanted this for a long time?"

N nodded. "Yes sir. It's beautiful."

Stiffening a little, N looked his father in the eye when he bent down until he was leveled with his face. "A castle is no castle without a king. You will be my king too." Leaning forward, Ghetsis kissed him on the mouth. N felt no shame, or disgust, he didn't even flinch. Because this was...normal. Even knowing that Ghetsis's words were lies, N couldn't bring himself to be angry about it, or hurt. He'd known from the start nothing ever happened the way he was told it would. Since childhood, he'd been told of becoming king and ruling over a team of subjects he'd never even laid eyes on. It seemed unnecessary for him to be 'king'. Ghetsis was already barking orders to everyone that he knew of. Anthea, Concordia, the doctor who fixed his arm...they were all ordered by Ghetsis to do that. Not N. If this was about power, Ghetsis had it all, so why bother with something so completely useless?

It didn't make sense to him. But what could he do?

"Ghetsis, I-"

Another voice echoed through the room and instantly, Ghetsis broke away from N, focusing his attention on the man who just entered. N felt his face flush with shame when he spied the man, dressed in dark robes, frozen in mid walk at the doorway, staring at them. Someone saw-someone-

Then, like nothing was wrong, the man straightened his posture and spoke to Ghetsis. "Oh, I apologize, am I interrupting something?"

N could tell his daddy was mad when he too straightened and left his side, walking toward the strange man dressed in dark. "Not at all. I was just showing my son around. Is there something wrong?"

As they spoke, N couldn't help but feel a little jealous hearing the way his father spoke to others. It was almost gentlemanly. There was still an air of authority about him, but still, his tone was much different.

"No sir, nothing is wrong. Your doctor asked me to tell you that he wishes to speak with you when you are not busy."

A long pause as Ghetsis stared at the floor, thinking. Then finally, "I can go there now. Will you stay with N? You can go downstairs and leave him with Anthea and Concordia if you wish."

N's heart fluttered at the thought of both getting to see more of the castle, and not having to be watched and yanked around by his father. The man looked past Ghetsis's frame to glance at N still seated on the throne. "If...it's fine with you, I'll do whatever you ask of me."

"It's fine. Just don't let him run off on his own is all I ask. I'm sure he won't, but he's been acting out today. I wouldn't be surprised if he started barking like a dog and shit on the floor."

N couldn't have felt any lower if he tried. The way his father spoke so lowly of him made him visibly lower his head in shame, but the man began laughing as if his father had told a joke. Even if it were meant that way, it's not how he heard it.

"I am pretty sure the boy's not a barbarian. Would you like for me to bring him to you once you're through?"

"No, just escort him back to his room."

N breathed, not realizing he'd been holding it in. Any moment he didn't have to be with his father, he was grateful. And to get to explore more of the castle made him happy again. The possibilities were endless for him right now, and he couldn't wait to see all he could, experience everything he could, because what if Ghetsis locked him back up for who knew how long? When would N get to come back out? If this were his only chance, he had to make it last and see everything. And maybe a way out-

No.

He slumped in the seat as his father and the other man spoke about nonsensical things, things he could drown out with his own thoughts. He had to stop thinking this way. It would do him no good to keep thinking of escaping when he had already told himself over and over that he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Because this was life, in this castle, living with Ghetsis and Zorua, that was N's life. There would be no outside anymore, no escape. Even if he did manage to pull it off, Ghetsis would find him. N feared that more than anything, because who was to say daddy wouldn't kill him when he found him again?

No matter if N ran away from this place, he knew that somehow, someway, he would never be safe. Ever.

To give up hope made him a little sad, because his life had been about dreaming of leaving, and to throw it away, he was giving up on ever having a future, a future without-this. Thinking about it made him depressed, but he couldn't afford for that to happen. Because life, the life he used to live dreaming of escape, had now become this. A life in which he strived for his father's affection, to make Ghetsis happy, no matter what. It was all he could do anymore.

It hurt a little, because hadn't he promised Zorua they would leave one day? Not only was he throwing his own future away, but hers too.

Finally Ghetsis and the other man stopped talking, Ghetsis leaving the room without so much as another glance at N, and the other man made his way up the carpeted steps and toward him. Smiling, appearing pleasant, the man outstretched his hand for N to shake. "My lord, I am pleased to finally meet you. I am Zinzolin. I am part of a group of sages your father assembled years ago. We help him keep this castle in order and assist him during business affairs."

Smiling a little, N took Zinzolin's hand and shook it. He felt a little awkward introducing himself, since it seemed everyone already knew him, but he did so anyway. "I am N. It's nice to meet you, too."

"Would you like to go downstairs now, my lord? Where would you like to go?"

N could feel his stomach lifting at the words. He got to choose? But, he didn't know where anything was. He didn't even know where his room was. Wait, Zorua- "Can-I mean. Would it be alright if I went to my room and got my pokemon?"

Zinzolin's smile made the knot in his stomach loosen. "Of course, my lord." This person was so friendly. It surprised him for some reason. Even though Anthea and Concordia always showed him kindness, it always struck him as odd the way people could act so differently than Ghetsis. Why were they always so nice to him? Why not berate him and yell at him like daddy?

Because wasn't that normal? To be yelled at and beaten when you did things wrong? Daddy did it all the time, why not everyone else? Obviously it wasn't wrong, because Ghetsis did it, and he was always right about everything. N was just a bad son.

Standing from the throne, N shifted his robes and smiled at Zinzolin as he led them out of the room.

* * *

With Zorua happily yipping in his arms, the smile on N's face couldn't be contained while he and Zinzolin walked down the stairs. He even got to see where his room was in this castle. Surprisingly, it was only down the hall away from his father's room. It should've made him uneasy at the close proximity he had with Ghetsis, but it could be ignored for now. Zorua was almost hopping out of his arms so she could run around, but N didn't want her wandering off from him. She might get lost in this big place.

"How are you enjoying things so far, my lord?"

N smiled as they descended another staircase, a similar hallway colored blue and gold meeting them. It seemed every hall was pretty much decorated the same in this place. It disappointed him a little that there wasn't a little more variety, but he couldn't complain. "It's wonderful."

Zinzolin nodded when they walked down yet another staircase. More gold and blue, but this time N could hear indistinct voices coming from below, becoming more and more clear as they walked. "You don't mind me dropping you off with Anthea and Concordia, do you? They are probably helping the servants with some chores."

"I don't mind at all. Do you think they'd let me help?"

He got a laugh out of him at that. "You would want to do chores? A king doesn't do chores, my lord."

"What if a king wants to?"

Zinzolin shrugged. "I suppose if you really want to, they'd have to accept help when it's offered."

Now at the bottom of the stairs, N could plainly see several people standing in the hallway, all dressed in strange grey uniforms. They all appeared rather young, some looking around his age, but then some looking older, maybe in their 20's? But, everyone stopped what they were doing when he and Zinzolin approached. N could see small brown pokemon following some of them around. He couldn't remember their names, but he knew he saw them in a book once.

"Let me introduce you, my lord. These are the newest members of Team Plasma. We're growing everyday and always welcome fresh, invigorated minds to our group who are willing to fight for our cause."

N smiled as he took in all the faces. Young, freckled, chubby, skinny, pale, dark, every kind of face stared back at him and he felt rather awkward, but held onto his smile. He wasn't used to meeting so many new people all at once and there appeared to be more older people in the group, so he was looked down upon. They probably didn't even know who he was, not that his future title made any difference.

Zinzolin continued speaking. "As I'm sure none of you are aware, since you are new, you are looking at your future king, so I suggest you work hard and don't disappoint him."

N could feel his face flush. Such endearing lies. Ha. Like any of these people had to impress him.

But, unlike Anthea, Concordia, and Zinzolin, he could tell some of these people were not so friendly or nice. Even with Zinzolin's words, some sneered at him, others rolling their eyes, and most just not paying attention in general. Fresh and invigorated, huh?

With no more words to exchange, Zinzolin led him away from the group who continued buzzing with noise when they entered another room in the hallway, this one leading into a giant dining room. A large, long table sat in the very center, another simple, but bright chandelier hanging from the ceiling to dangle in the middle of the table, and a fireplace sat behind the head chair. A door led off to some other room in a corner which N assumed to be a kitchen.

"Anthea and Concordia are mostly likely behind that door helping prepare dinner. You may go inside if you like, but please, my lord, keep an eye on your pokemon. We can't have it getting under people's feet and causing trouble."

N nodded, hugging onto Zorua who was still itching to get out of his arms. "I'll make sure she doesn't run off."

With a nod of his head and a smile thrown N's way, Zinzolin spoke once more before leaving. "If your father doesn't come fetch you first, I will be back shortly to escort you back to your bedroom." And having said that, he left N alone in the dining room.

Had the circumstances been any different, N probably would have taken off with Zorua and explored the castle on his own time. Maybe even gone outside. He'd seen a few windows in the halls, but was never able to get up close to take a peek outside. Taking in the castle's sights was first on his mind though. But now that he'd seen that pretty much all the halls and rooms looked a little alike, the newness was dying down. It didn't feel as fascinating seeing those chandeliers and waterfalls as it did the first time. While still pretty to look at and still grateful, N just wanted more. Seeing so much already was like an appetizer, he was hungry for even more sights, smells, and feelings.

And now that he was alone, the faint sounds of voices and movement from the kitchen being the only thing reaching his ears, N felt compelled to explore on his own. He owed it to himself, though, and it was very hard not to leave everything behind him and walk out that door, into the hallway, and run wherever he felt like.

Setting Zorua down, she didn't immediately run off like he figured she would. In all honesty, a part of him wanted her to, so that he would have an excuse to explore. Instead, Zorua stared up at him, her fluffy tail wagging as if she were waiting for him to make a move first. In this bright room, N could see her scars and missing patches of fur more prominently, and...it made him feel guilty.

No one was coming out of that door to take him in and strip the freedom he had now away. N was, for the first time, independent, and he had the power to turn and walk away. Zinzolin didn't think he would deliberately try to escape, especially since Ghetsis's influence hung over him like a rain cloud, so he was left alone, because he was trusted not to pull any stunts. Or perhaps trusted wasn't the right word. Maybe it was more they knew he wouldn't try anything, because even if he did, there would be no more going outside like this. Ghetsis would make sure of that.

But to be alone for once, with the freedom to go wherever he wanted, N couldn't help himself. The consequences of his actions were ignored as he turned away from the little brown door in the corner and walked out of the dining room.

Zorua happily followed him, staying by his side once they entered the hallway. Left or right. Left led back upstairs where his bedroom was. No, no. Right led downstairs. N headed right, trying to ignore the way his bare feet smacked against the floor. It was so loud now that he was alone, it was like he had super hearing, and every little noise he made caused his heart to pound in his chest. Resistance. A feeling he'd only had the honor of experiencing very little, because once N resisted, he was punished, and he had tried his best to be a good person for his daddy. To do everything he was told, this felt nice for once to go his own way, to choose his own path, even if it meant simply walking down a hallway by himself. It was still freedom.

N's original intention was not to go out wandering around by himself, but having been left alone, his curiosity was at its peak and he quaked. Why not indulge himself a little longer?

Still by his side, Zorua would nuzzle his feet every step he took. He couldn't help a smile that formed. He thought she would have run away, but here she was, by his side, loving on him. It made him happy.

As N descended the stairs, two people were walking up, causing him to shift to one side of the staircase to avoid colliding with them. They were dressed in the same strange uniforms as the other people in the hall had been, and N smiled at them as he walked. They didn't smile back, not that he expected them to, but that was okay.

When N reached the bottom of the stairs, it had become very apparent that this hallway was the entrance to the entire castle. Pillars lined the walls, portraits and tapestries were hung up, flowers were set against every corner he could see. The very picture perfect image of elegant was this place.

Then there was the front door. For a castle's entrance, N expected a drawbridge, like in his fairytale books, but instead, there was a large, rounded door, one he could easily open by just turning the handle.

N could not think rationally when he bolted for the door, Zorua rushing at his heels to keep up with him. Outside. Outside, _OUTSIDE_. Reaching for the handle, he jerked it both ways until it turned and he pushed, the entire thing creaking once moved. Sunlight poured in on him and N choked with happiness at the warm feeling, such a contrast to the cold he was too used to. Zorua settled herself between his legs, her tail flapping back and forth against his ankles.

Green. The sound of the wind rustling the trees, the scent of many flowers and the earth, the sky, it was all right here in front of him. And N stood in the doorway, taking it all in, his eyes watering from the sunlight. It felt so good. Like wanting to splash around in the water, N had the urge to strip his clothes and bathe in the sunlight. Not that he would do that, but the thought lingered.

N took a step, now fully exposed to the sun, and smiled when the wind blew, tousling his hair. Bending down, he picked up Zorua where she rested at his feet and held her against him, patting at her back.

"It's so beautiful."

He could run. Just walk right down those steps below him and run into the woods, hide himself amongst the trees, and pray daddy would not find him. He could, it would be so easy.

N took one step before a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back through the doorway. In that split moment, N's entire body and mind shut off. He could not think or move, but the only thought that shot through his brain and made his heart race was that _daddy caught him_.

"My lord, what do you think you're doing?"

Instead of his father's scowling face and biting tone, N found himself staring at Anthea. She was obviously angry at him, but it melted his heart with relief that it was her and not his father who pulled him back.

Composing himself and trying not to let it show he'd just been terrified for a brief moment, N smiled at her. "I'm sorry. I wanted to see outside." And it'd been worth it. Completely. But he knew if it had been Ghetsis standing right here, right now, he would be writhing on the floor, bloody and beaten.

Anthea's frown stayed. "You could have gotten one of us to escort you. You could have gotten lost and your father would have flayed us."

So this was about them getting into trouble, nothing else. It should have struck a nerve to know that these people didn't really care about him, but N couldn't find it in him to be bitter. Seeing the castle and even cheating to see the outside made his day just that much better. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

"I'm sorry." Even though he wasn't in the slightest. "If I come help in the kitchen, will you forgive me?"

At that, Anthea's frown softened a little and the redness in her face from anger disappeared. "I suppose."

N didn't bother holding back his smirk when he closed the front entrance and followed her back upstairs. It felt incredibly good to be on his own like that, and he even got to see the outside for a brief time. Even if Anthea got angry at him, he still smiled, because everything was worth it, finally, he got what he wanted. He knew she wouldn't tell on him, because then Ghetsis would get angry at both of them and it was obvious she didn't want that to happen, at least to herself.

He got away with it. And he smiled for it.

* * *

**Yay and things. This is as happy as it's gonna get, I promise. Also, I MIGHT HAVE A JOB NEXT WEEK. Yes, I'm so excited unf. But that means I have to juggle that, this, and school. Psh, I'll make time to write this. Harmoniashipping is worth losing sleep over. Also, this is gonna be over in the next few chapters or so. But, thanks to all who've stuck with me this far. It means a lot. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Gah, sorry this took so long. I got that job I mentioned, so most of my time has been consumed by that. BUT HEY LONG CHAPTER MAKES UP FOR IT RIGHT? **

**Enjoy the daddy issues.**

* * *

For the first time in his life, N felt refreshed and happy when he woke up in the morning. In such a short amount of time, life had become completely different for him, and it was enough to make him greet the day with a smile once he awoke.

Once his morning activities such as cleaning his room and showering were out of the way, he was allowed out of his room. Even with this new freedom at his expense, it was still limited. Places such as the kitchen and pretty much anywhere downstairs from his room, he was allowed to wander around at his leisure. Upstairs where the throne was and outside the castle were restricted. Ghetsis made it clear if he so much as thought about opening the door and wandering around outside, he would regret it.

He felt selfish that it made him a little sad, but at the same time, happy, because it meant Anthea hadn't told Ghetsis about him sneaking to the front door and looking outside. N didn't even want to think of the amount of trouble he would have gotten into had it been Ghetsis and not Anthea who pulled him back inside. And despite everything, he really wanted to run, but did that make him selfish? Freedom had been given to him, though limited as it was, it was still freedom, and yet he craved the trees and the grass more than the kitchen.

Even so, he would come out of his room, feeling empowered as he got to walk down the hallway, and go his own pace, walk as slow or as fast as he wanted. It felt great, just to walk that way, to know he had at least an ounce of power or freedom.

Most days, N found himself helping out in the kitchen, because honestly, there wasn't much else to do. Plasma members would sometimes challenge him to pokemon battles, but he was always too nervous to send Zorua out like that, especially because of her scars. Battles were always politely declined, but he would rather help out in the kitchen anyway. Thanks to Team Plasma, they always had a lot of mouths to feed. The food was never fancy, but it still took a lot of effort to make the amount they had in order to keep everyone fed.

The women in the kitchen, along with Concordia and Anthea, were always nice to him. Even though he couldn't really help with the cooking since he kept burning everything or not cooking it long enough, they still welcomed him with open arms and let him help anyway he could. Normally, his job was doing dishes, but he was okay with that. Anything he could do to help, he would do it. It beat staying in his room all the time by a long shot.

It felt wonderful to spend the day away from his room, to see the light shining from the windows, to watch it change color as the day waned on. For once, he felt productive. Just doing dishes and knowing he was helping out made him feel a little less insignificant.

Life had changed so much, and he could smile during the day because of it.

Nights were the same as they'd always been. Some nights, he would go to bed knowing he'd done a good job helping around the castle that day, Zorua would curl up beside him, and everything would be warm and comforting. Other nights, nights that were a lot less frequent than they used to be, his father would come into his room. Most nights, the really bad ones, he would flip N's covers back, tear his clothes off, and tell him to shut up while N bit the blood out of his lips so he wouldn't scream. The nice nights, if they could even be considered that, his father would come in, but instead of pulling the covers off him, he would seat himself at the end of N's bed and sit and sit for what seemed like hours at a time. N was always too afraid to sit up and confront him about it, so he lay there, pretending to be asleep until his daddy got up and left.

Nights were not allowed to interfere with his days. No matter what happened the night before, or what he knew may or may not happen that next night, N could wake up with a smile, because working in the kitchen was a nice distraction. While he washed dishes and chatted with the ladies, he could forget about everything bad that had happened.

* * *

The next time N awoke with Zorua huddled under the sheets with him, he patted her until she awoke, stretching and yawning. One quick glance at his calendar told him today was his birthday.

When he was little, birthdays usually meant toys and more toys, and then they meant books. The older he got, the less happy they felt, until his daddy felt like it was necessary to visit his room every birthday. Normally, he wouldn't smile, because he knew without a doubt, Ghetsis would come in. But lately, it was becoming more and more the norm. It would hurt, but-he didn't dare let it get to him the next day when he worked in the kitchen. So as he crawled out of bed, stretching alongside Zorua, N smiled and set to work with what had become his everyday schedule.

As he made his bed and proceeded to take a shower, his door opened and someone he'd never seen before strolled in, smiling at him. N smiled awkwardly, trying not to stare at the man's strange hairstyle. He had to wonder how he even managed to make his bangs swirl around his head like that.

After closing the door, the man extended his hand for N to shake, which he did, still trying to avert his eyes from the man's hair. "I am pleased to meet you, Lord N. My name is Colress. I'm your father's doctor."

Doctor?

Still not sure what to say or do, N continued smiling, even after Colress made himself at home and settled on his bed which he just finished smoothing out. Flipping through a clipboard in his hands, Colress kept the smile he had while not looking at N. "I have a few questions for you. Is that alright?"

N could feel Zorua's tail brush against him as she moved in and out between his legs. "Sure. I-I guess." He felt stupid just standing around, but he would've felt even more awkward if he had sat on the bed next to Colress, so he chose to stand.

"I'm going to bring these up in as professional a manner as I can, so I apologize if any of these make you uncomfortable, but I need your honest answer for my records."

Still confused, N nodded slowly, not knowing what to expect. If his daddy was seeing a doctor, did that mean he was sick? And why was he being asked questions? Shouldn't these be for Ghetsis?

"For the past couple of months or so, have you noticed any changes in your father's behavior? Such as, has he been a lot calmer?"

It suddenly felt like a cord was wrapping around his chest, and N was starting to get nervous. What was he supposed to say? This was-he didn't know what to say. Would daddy get mad at him if-

"Lord N, please don't worry about answering. I promise you our discussion will remain between just the two of us. These are merely for my research and are only to help me. I promise I won't tell your father."

Despite the little voice in his head telling him to keep his mouth shut, N relaxed a little. If this was his daddy's doctor, then would this be helping? "...Yes."

Colress scribbled something on his clipboard. "Does your father still get angry a lot?"

"...Yes."

"What does he do when he is calm?"

N stared at his feet, at Zorua who zigzagged in and out of his legs. "What do you mean?"

"During the times he is calm, does he do anything in particular? Or does he do nothing?"

N shook his head, still confused. "Nothing...particular. He doesn't talk to me much or do anything."

Colress sighed, leaning back on N's bed, staring down at the clouds on his floor. "These responses are really important, but for me to get what I need, I guess I should tell you what exactly I need them for." They sat in silence for a few moments. It seemed like Colress wasn't going to speak at all at first, but he finally opened his mouth after sighing again. "You _cannot _tell your father I told you this, do you understand, my lord? I'm not even supposed to be in here interrogating you like this, but Zinzolin lies for him and I cannot have lies if I want to help him."

N nodded, the feeling of being suffocating hitting him again.

"Your father is really sick. But it's not a sickness you've ever experienced like having a fever and being fed soup. His sickness has more to do with his mind. I know what he does to you, Lord N."

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

"I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but what he does to you isn't right. Maybe you've figured that out for yourself. I'm not going to sugar coat this for you, because it's too important. I'm trying to help him so that he won't hurt you anymore. If you can help me, then I can help him, do you understand?"

N's fingers were pulling at his shorts until his nails were dug into the fabric. The clouds on his floor were the only things in his vision and he couldn't think straight. They knew? Everyone knew? And-they never helped him? "Wh-why." His voice cracked.

"Honestly, I don't know. Some people just do things nobody can explain. All I know is that Zinzolin forced him to come to me for therapy and I'm no therapist, but I've been trying really hard to help him. Your father is respected, and the sages want to help him. Nobody but me and Zinzolin knows how sick he really is right now. As far as everyone else in this damn castle is concerned, he just has anger issues. Zinzolin thought he was getting better, and Ghetsis lies during his sessions with me, so I can't trust either of them. But Zinzolin told me he saw him force himself on you in the throne room and we knew then that we weren't making progress at all."

N could feel his face burn with embarrassment and shame. He wanted to be angry, because they knew, they _knew, _they knew Ghetsis came into his room and hurt him, but they didn't do anything about it. Tears formed from anger, but mostly shame.

"I have Ghetsis on medication right now. It won't fix the problem right away, but I've been giving him a higher dosage for the past few months."

Fixing the problem...Fixing the _problem_ would be taking N away from this awful place and saving him. Every damn thing Colress said made him angrier and more ashamed of himself. It also proved the fact that nobody in this castle gave a shit about him. The tears fell. Nobody loved him, not Anthea, not Concordia, certainly not daddy. To them, N was just a scapegoat, just a piece of trash that was going to be thrown away one way or another. He had nobody.

He couldn't help it. Sinking to the floor, N put his face in his hands and cried. Zorua nuzzled against him, but he pushed her away. A pokemon, an animal was the only damn thing that ever loved him, and he couldn't even accept her right now, because it hurt too much. "Why." Anger fell with his tears and he started sobbing. "Why won't you just take me away? Why won't you save me? I don't want to be here!" He removed his hands, tears now stuck to his face and his eyes bloodshot. "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE! WHY-WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME?!" His voice cracked and broke as he yelled.

Even through his tears, N could see Colress's face clearly as he stared at the floor in silence until he sighed again. "I am...sorry. When I was first asked to work here, you were very little and Ghetsis was talking about making you king. That was all Zinzolin's idea. It was meant as a distraction for your father so that he wouldn't get any sicker. But it failed."

N knew that. He already knew the entire reasoning behind that stupid story was all a big, fake lie. That didn't surprise him at all. But to be told more than one person knew what his daddy did to him sometimes and blindly looked the other way, he felt betrayed almost. And for him to ask-beg Colress for help, to please, PLEASE SAVE HIM-and be denied, he felt a weight on his chest like he'd never felt before. It hurt so much, it felt like he couldn't breathe. Because being alone never felt this horrible before, but knowing he was on his own, knowing no one would be helping him, it hurt. And he cried.

"My lord, I'm sorry. Really, I am. But this is all I can do." No it wasn't. No it _fucking wasn't._ "When was the last time your father hurt you?"

N couldn't count how many times he'd given up in his life. Before, he was prepared to spend his life this way, he had accepted it so many times, and every time it looked like a new opportunity would arise, he tried to take it. He wanted to take it, and leave, but he never could. Something always held him back. He wanted to give up, so that it would stop hurting him so much to have his hopes crushed like this, but hope always fucking won and he hated having it smashed to pieces like this. Everything had been fine, just fine before, even when daddy raped him, because he got to work in the kitchen with the nice ladies who smiled at him and told him gossip. But this. Knowing people knew and knowing they weren't going to help him, it made him angry that he'd had such faith in others to help someone when they were in trouble and having it slapped in the face like this. He was angry, so mad, so fucking mad, he could only cry in anger. He wanted to cross the room and punch Colress in the face. He wanted to break his glasses and shake him and ask him why? Why? Why was he leaving him in the hands of his father when he knew he was sick and hurting him? Why wouldn't he save him?

Hope had been crushed so much, N was surprised there was any left, if he could even consider it hope anymore, if it was even something to consider. Why have any ounce of it when it was constantly ripped away from him? Why couldn't he just-let daddy hurt him and live his life this way?

"My lord-"

"The night before last, now get out of my room." And N didn't care if he was being rude, or that Colress stared at him in complete shock before he gathered his clipboard and walked out. N deserved to be angry.

After Colress left, N slammed his door shut, making Zorua jump and hide under his bed. Now alone, he turned to everything in his room, everything his life had been composed of for the past several years. A bed, books, his little lamp, and a calendar. The books were piled neatly on shelves and in corners and he made his way over to them, picking them up and slamming them on the ground in anger. No book was left on the shelf, he picked them all up and threw them across the room, some hitting the walls, and others flopping open. No, it wasn't enough. It wasn't god damn enough. Bending down, he picked up a red book at his feet. It was a Math book. He liked Math, but he tore the pages out, crumbling them and tearing them into even smaller pieces of paper before throwing them on the ground.

"Fuck." He didn't care anymore. "Fuck, _fuck_." When he got tired of tearing pages out, he ran to the calendar hanging on the wall and ripped it in half, throwing it behind him. "Why won't anyone help me?" Tears blinded him as he picked up another book, ripping more pages out of it. He didn't even know which one it was. Paper littered his floor, but he didn't care. The ripped pages weren't enough, _it was never enough_, so he picked up more books and threw them at the wall. "I don't want to be here! I-I!" Now at his closet, he pulled shirts from their hangers and threw some on the ground, tearing the fabric of others. "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!"

Who cared if daddy got mad at him for his dirty room? He didn't care anymore. What was the point if he knew he would never be saved? He was going to be hurt again and again anyway, so there was no point in trying anymore.

With dozens of books littering the ground, paper everywhere, and shirts torn at his feet, N sank to the ground, not even having the energy to cry anymore. The bottom of his comforter quivered before Zorua popped her head out, her legs and head shaking in fear.

"I'm sorry." N bunched his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. "I'm sorry." He was sorry for scaring Zorua, but he didn't care about his room. He was still mad. No more tears formed, because he was too exhausted to cry anymore.

Zorua approached him, rubbing her head against him until he pet her.

The only thing who ever loved him and who ever would love him, was a pokemon. Zorua cared about him, she comforted him, and he was sorry for scaring her. He didn't want her scared.

Lifting her in his arms, N held her close, patting her back as she nuzzled his neck. "I'm sorry. I love you."

* * *

It had gotten colder. The longer N stayed huddled with Zorua in the corner, the more goosebumps formed on his arms, and the more he held her close to him to share her heat. Zorua never struggled away from him. As always, she stayed in his arms, letting him pet her, hug her, love on her, without so much as pushing away from him.

When he thought about it, she hadn't 'talked' in so long, he had to wonder if what he had been hearing before was even her speaking, or just his over active imagination getting the better of him. Maybe he had been alone so long, that his mind was creating conversations to have, and Zorua, being the only one there, was the object he pretended to converse with.

Maybe that's all it was.

But, he didn't want to think about it. It felt like he'd been seated in the corner for hours (which was probably true), before his bedroom door opened. He didn't even look up to see who it was. If it was daddy, then he would be yelled at for his dirty room, but N didn't care.

Instead of his father's voice, he heard an elderly lady's, the head cook's. "What's the matter, honey?"

And it was asked in such a sweet, caring tone that N felt his throat tighten at it. Lies. All of it. He hated it. Unlike them, N was honest, so he answered honestly. "I got angry, and I threw things."

The woman paused, uncomfortable silence filling the room once more, like she didn't know what to say. As she seated herself on N's bed, facing him, she finally spoke again, her tone a lot more sympathetic like she was trying to comfort a child who'd had a terrible nightmare. "You didn't come down today, and we got worried. We-we made you a cake for your birthday. Have you ever had cake before?"

Refusing to speak, N chose to shake his head instead.

"You'll love my cakes, honey. They're nice and sweet, but I put fruit in them so they'll be naturally sweet too. Would you like to come down and try some?"

Another shake of his head.

The woman seemed to be getting desperate. Inching forward on his bed, N heard the springs underneath squeak as she leaned closer to him, but still kept her distance. "Will you tell me why you're upset, honey? You don't have to. I don't want you sad. It's your birthday, so it should be a happy day."

Happy. Hah. N almost laughed at that one. Daddy always made sure his birthdays were nothing special. And it wasn't like they were anything special to begin with. As far as N was concerned, another birthday meant another year living here, another year of confinement, another year with daddy. It was absolutely nothing to celebrate.

"...Honey?" The woman seemed to be struggling with her words now. Her voice was strained and hesitant. "There-have you ever heard of Nimbasa City?"

Of course he hadn't. He shook his head.

"Well." Now she was sitting up straighter, not that N was paying attention to her. The whole time the woman spoke and moved, he pet Zorua, keeping his eyes on the patches of fur missing from the top of her head. "They have carnival rides there. Like a ferris wheel, and roller coasters, and things like snacks stands where you can go and buy sweets and food. It isn't even too far away from here. We're a subway ride away. Would you like to go to there for your birthday?"

N had ceased petting Zorua's head. Lifting his head, he looked up at the woman seated on his bed, leaning forward as close as she could to him, and smiling genuinely.

"I-" It couldn't be real, though.

"I know you aren't allowed out of the castle, but." She gave him an encouraging, comforting smile. "I won't tell your father if you won't. I can have my ladies cover for us. We'll only have about an hour or so, but that should be enough for you to see the sights and ride a couple of rides. Would you like that, honey?"

Yes, he-he would. He would, he would absolutely love that. And maybe he was just letting his excitement get the better of him, but he could feel his insides lift at the thought of going out, really, really going out.

"Da-Ghetsis wouldn't know?" Yes, he wanted this. If it was going to be handed to him, he would damn well take it.

The woman smiled. "I will make sure my ladies cover for us. He won't know a thing. Are you sure you want to go?"

Rising to his feet, Zorua finally jumping out of his lap, N now stood taller than the woman sitting on his bed and smiled at her, trying not to let his excitement and happiness break his voice. "Y-yes."

* * *

Just as N and the cook were about to leave his room, she turned to him. "It's chilly outside. Don't forget to take a coat with you, honey."

Nodding, N rushed back in, nabbing a black coat from his closet before heading back out the doorway. "Can I take my pokemon? She won't run off or bother anyone."

Hesitant at first, the cook slowly nodded. "I...suppose. Just keep her out of trouble."

Smiling now, N bent down and scooped Zorua up in his arms, closing his bedroom door behind him. He needed to remember to clean it up after they got back. If daddy saw that, he would definitely hit him, but surprisingly, N wasn't all that worried about it. Normally, any form of his father's wrath, be it just a slap on his face, or a full blown rage of kicks, scratches, and punches, would terrify him, but his excitement blocked it out.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, they headed into the kitchen where a bunch of cooks greeted him, one lady holding up what looked like chocolate cake. "Deary, you have to try this cake. Anne is the best cook around here. She made it just for you."

Even though he wasn't very hungry, N smiled politely and took a small slice, nipping at it with his fork. His anger had almost completely disappeared from earlier, and things seemed so much warmer and sweeter now. He wasn't even a fan of sweets, nor very hungry to begin with, but N couldn't deny the cake was delicious. Zorua crawled onto his shoulder, wrapping her tail around his neck to support herself while she sniffed at the chocolate and fruit covered cake. "Thank you. It's really good."

Anne, the elderly cook, patted his back. "I'll explain everything to my ladies. Don't you worry, honey, okay?"

N was only able to stomach about half of the cake before he had to decline anymore food offers. The thought of going outside alone was enough to send him into cardiac arrest, but there was also the dark cloud looming over him. What if daddy found out? He would be angry. But.

Anne turned back to him after throwing a white coat around her. "There's a town just outside of the forest from us. We'll take the subway train there. Put your coat on."

Excited and nervous at the same time, N complied, making sure not to knock Zorua off his shoulders as he wriggled his way into the coat. Anne led him to a door in the back of the kitchen which led directly outside, and even though they were in a hurry, it felt like time had slowed. The walk was too long, opening the door took forever, and even crossing the threshold felt like it took hours and not seconds.

But it became clear afterward. It was dark, but N didn't care. He was outside, fully outside for real this time. Just the wind blowing through his hair and tousling it made him smile.

"Honey, not to be rude, but we have to hurry." Grabbing his hand, Anne gave him no chance to ogle everything before they were rushing down a dirt path, the castle disappearing soon behind them. Throughout the jog, N made sure he caught sight of as much as he could. The trees were losing leaves, the wind that blew was chilled, making him thankful for his coat and Zorua wrapped around his neck almost like a scarf. The crunching of the dirt under his shoes made him strangely happy. Just to hear different sounds, and the smell-He couldn't even think with so many sensations at once.

Lights became visible just over a hill in which Anne wasted no time tugging him along to get them to the town as quickly as possible. N's eyes stayed glued to the flickering lights that flashed of all different colors. The closer they got, the more he could see neon signs, windows of office buildings, and lights from houses. Anne never let go of his hand, holding him close to her like he was a child and would wander off. Honestly, he didn't blame her. He tried taking in as much of everything as he could while huddling in his coat. It was colder here.

And the people. N was used to people now that he got to wander around the castle, but these were crowds and crowds of them going in every direction.

He must've looked silly standing there holding Anne's hand with a huge grin on his face, but he didn't care. Everything was so-he couldn't put it into words. It was like a fairytale, like it wasn't really happening, but he was happy because it was, and it felt wonderful to be surrounded by unknown things, to look up at the tall buildings and read the neon signs. It was all strange and new, but it was so wonderful compared to the same old rooms the castle had to offer. N felt like he could stare forever at everything, the buildings, the people running to and from places, and everything.

Anne dragged him to a building where they had to descend a set of stairs at the entrance. N knew they were pressed for time, but he couldn't help being in awe at everything. Even Zorua seemed to be having fun. She had maneuvered herself under his coat, so she was only a head poking out from under his hair.

When the stairs dumped them into an open area underground, N stood dumbstruck by the sight of a train. He didn't know trains ran underground. Anne tugged at his left arm to get him to move. "The train is free, honey. We have to hurry now. Nimbasa is only about a 10 minute ride away."

The subway seats could be considered comfortable. With Anne on his left, still clutching at his arm like he would float away from her if she so much as lifted a finger away from him, N still smiled in his seat. Zorua migrated down to his lap and curled into a ball as the train moved, making them sway in their seats. After a few awkward moments of silence, N turned to Anne in hopes of striking a conversation. "Do you own any pokemon?"

Now leaning back in her seat and seeming more relaxed from all the running they had to do, Anne sighed and smile. "No, dear, but my children do. My daughter owns a Skitty a friend gave her from another region and my son got a Tepig from his father a couple of years ago."

"I see." Shifting in his seat a little, N tried not to disturb Zorua too much as he playing with her ears which twitched when he touched them. "Ghetsis gave Zorua to me when I was really little. She's been with me ever since."

Anne looked down at the relaxing pokemon. "She looks happy with you."

"I am happy with her." Now playing with her tail, N looked down when he asked his next question. "Have you ever heard a pokemon talk?"

Even without looking at her, N could hear the skepticism in her voice. "Talk? I don't think they are capable of talking, honey, not like us. If they are, I certainly have never heard one."

Twiddling Zorua's tail fur between his fingers, N stared at the scars on her back. "Oh."

"Why do you ask, dear?"

"Nothing. Just wondering."

The train's wheels squeaked below them as they slowed to a stop. Squeezing his arm tighter, Anne gave him another comforting smile. "We're here, honey."

When they exited the subway station, N stood in awe once again. Unlike the city they took the train from, this one was bustling with people. Every corner, every bench, every building seemed to be swarming with people. Blinking lights from buildings and attractions shown down on everyone, drowning the crowds and ground with color.

"They have an amusement park just down the street." Anne took his hand once again, leading him away from the station and toward the park where he could see something large and circular in the distance, it too blinking different colored lights. Zorua perched herself on his shoulders once again, huddling into his coat when a light breeze blew through, making them all shiver. With her added heat though, he was warm. Warm and able to smile the closer they got to the park.

Once they walked under the brightly lit archway, the first thing N noticed was a giant ballooned Pikachu looming over everyone. It was lit up, the sound of a small air device hissing to keep it blown up, and mostly children were surrounding it, begging their parents to take pictures of it, or trying to climb on it in some way.

N was focused on the giant circular ride in front of them. What looked like large pokeballs were lifted and spun around in a slow circle. "What is that?"

"Would you like to ride it? It's a ferris wheel. It's mostly a relaxing ride, so you can see from high up."

N nodded, smiling. "Can I?"

Anne squeezed his hand in reassurance, giving him a small smile in return. "Of course, honey."

The ferris wheel appeared more and more intimidating as N walked over to it, having finally wriggled his hand out of Anne's hold. She didn't tell him not to run off, not that he would, but he was happy for the small feeling of freedom to go where he pleased.

A tall man stood in front of the entrance to the ferris wheel, looking bored as he picked at his nails and pressed buttons to load people on and off the ride. As N approached, the smile never leaving his face, the man suddenly held up a hand. "No can do, kiddo. You have to ride with someone."

Before N could protest, a woman's voice sounded behind him, "Excuse me, if you need a partner to go up, I could loan you my kids."

As N whirled around, he met the face of a young woman smiling at him, holding in each of her hands her two children's hands. They both stared up at him like seeing the sight of such a tall person appalled them. N hadn't realized it since he didn't pay much attention to it, but he was very tall for his age. He had to look down at the mother just to make eye contact with her.

Still smiling, the woman introduced her two children to him. "Nice to meet you. These are my kids, Black and White. If you want to ride this ride, they can go with you. I'm tired, so I'll enjoy the break if you don't mind."

Feeling a little awkward since the kids were still staring at him, N gave a half-smile. "N-no problem at all." N shot a glance at Anne who gave him a thumbs up before Black and White followed him into the giant pokeball.

As they seated themselves, the kids sitting opposite to him, the little girl who was holding a Pikachu doll stared at him as her brother looked out the glass. "You're really tall, mister. How old are you?"

"I turned 15 today. How old are you?"

White smiled, showing off her missing front teeth. "We're both 10!" She had such a sing-song way of saying it, N couldn't help but laugh.

"Is that so? Did the tooth fairy come give you money for your teeth?"

Black leaned back in his seat and answered for his sister. "The tooth fairy doesn't exist, don't you know that? We stopped believing in that ages ago. Momma just gives us coins and we go buy candy."

N nodded. "I see. I heard about the tooth fairy from books, so I didn't know if people actually believed that or not. I always threw my teeth away."

At that, White looked shocked such a thing could happen. "Your momma didn't keep them?! Momma always kept our teeth! She said it would always remind her of her little babies." Without her two front teeth, he could hear a lisp in her speech and he smiled at it. He could remember when that happened to him and he was embarrassed for it.

Looking out the window, N smiled at the lights that flickered below them. They were so high up, it was incredible. Everyone looked like tiny, little ants from up where they were. "No. I don't have a mom, just a dad."

"Why didn't your dad keep them?"

N shrugged, leaning back in his cushioned seat. "It never occurred to him, I guess. They're just teeth, after all. New ones grow in, so what's the point of keeping the old ones?"

After a few seconds of silence, Black stretched his arms, leaning back in his seat. "This is so boring. When's this ride over? It's too slow."

N looked up out of the glass as the top of the trees could be seen above them again. "I don't know. Anne said it was supposed to be relaxing, so you can see the sights."

"Sights are boring. I want to go ride the roller coaster again."

White cuddled her Pikachu doll. "Momma won't let us. She threw up the first time."

Rolling his eyes, Black leaned his palm against his chin and stared out the window, remaining silent.

N shifted in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek. "I could go with you, if you want to ride it again. I've never ridden one before."

"Really?!" White looked ready to bounce out of her seat, as did Black. "Thank you! You're so nice, mister!"

As he smiled, Black dug his hands in his pockets. "What's your name anyway?"

"N."

"N?" Black chuckled, White elbowing his stomach for it. "What kind of name is that?"

"It's just...my name."

Having remained still for most of the time, Zorua suddenly yawned and stretched herself around N's shoulders, nuzzling the inside of his coat. At the movement, White screeched, pointing at her. "OH MY GOSH, I THOUGHT THAT WAS A SCARF!"

"Is that a pokemon?" Lifting out of his seat, Black moved closer, stopping when Zorua suddenly made eye contact and stared at him. "I've never seen one like that before."

"This is Zorua. Daddy-I mean-" N could feel his face gush with red as the word slipped out. He'd been doing so good lately called daddy by name, and now he fucked it up. Great.

"You still call your dad 'daddy'?" Black frowned and N could feel himself shrink under the scrutinizing stare. God, what was he, a baby?

"N-no, it slipped out, sorry."

He suddenly felt very cold and closed his coat around him, reveling in Zorua's warmth. Just the mention of his father made him depressed again, and he avoided eye contact with the kids as they slowly went around for the second time. Huddling in the coat made him feel a little safer, even if it was a lie, comfort was scarce and he really needed it now.

"Are you okay?" Looking up, he found both kids staring at him. They weren't judging him or belittling him. The stares looked worried, and he could feel himself relax at it. It was nice knowing they cared.

"Yeah, sorry."

Finally, their cart reached the ground again and the tall man let them out, telling them to have a good night. N found Anne and the kids' mother conversing as they made their way over to them, the kids rushing to their mom and attaching themselves to her.

"Momma!" White bounced up and down, her ponytail bobbing with her. "N said he'd ride the roller coaster with us, is that okay?! Pleeeease, momma?"

Their mom gave N an awkward smile before answering. "Well...if it's alright with him, I suppose."

"Yay!" Rushing to his side, White grabbed his hand, pulling him toward a brightly lit building, Black following closely behind him. "The roller coaster is inside. It's really cool! It's lit up and bright and shiny and if you look closely, you can see Elesa walking around and oh my gosh, she's so cool, she's a model and-"

"Wait." As they neared the inside of the building and N could clearly see the flashing lights and carts whizzing around, it became apparent that Zorua couldn't ride on his shoulder anymore. "Hold on, let me give Zorua to Anne."

Black raised his eyebrows as N plucked Zorua from his shoulders. She whimpered a little, like she had gotten comfortable and he was disturbing her. "She your aunt or something?"

"Anne? No." N hurried over to where Anne stood still talking to the kids' mom and handed his pokemon to her. "Sorry, do you mind holding onto her for me?"

Taking the now-shivering Zorua, Anne gave him a comforting smile. "Of course, dear. Go have fun, okay?"

N smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

The hour N had seemed like it flew by. One minute he was on the ferris wheel with Black and White, making friends, having fun, riding rides, the next, Anne was telling him it was time to leave. N wanted to whine and plead, he wanted to follow Black and White everywhere and ride every single ride with them, he wanted to talk to them more, he didn't want to leave. He was having so much fun, more fun than he'd ever had in his life, and it was over so quickly. The frown he made couldn't be contained even if he tried, but that was normal. He'd had a lot of fun, and it was cut short like this, of course he would be disappointed.

But Black and White's smiles made him smile, even though he was sad. "Thank you for hanging out with us and riding all the rides momma couldn't."

Anne tugged at his hand, Zorua was huddled back around his neck, and N gave a wave to the two kids and their mom as Anne led him away. "You're welcome."

"I'm sorry, honey." And Anne's apology seemed genuine. She too looked sad the fun had to be cut short, especially since the night was still fairly young. But N couldn't blame her. They had to get back before daddy found out he was gone. Otherwise, N would be punished and Anne-he didn't even know what would happen to her.

Things were much rushed than they had been earlier. They ran to the subway station, they ran up the stairs when it let them off, they ran through the town and back on the dirt path that led to the castle hidden away in the woods. N was given no time to gawk at the sights like he had before, if that could even be considered sight-seeing. Now, his heart was pounding in his chest so hard, it was making him dizzy. It was nerves and the rush of excitement.

But now that they were back on the dirt path, the lights of the town below fading away, until only the dirt below crunched under their feet, N could feel the wave of depression returning. Why?

Why after all this time, he was given something so beautiful like this, absolute freedom, and now he was being dragged right back to the place that held so many bad memories for him? It was insane, and it didn't make the slightest bit of sense to him. Terror reared up, and N snatched his hand out of Anne's grip, receiving a shocked look from her.

"N-no." Why didn't he do this before? He just wasn't thinking straight, that's all. But now, now that it was so obvious and clear to him, he could build up the courage he hadn't before, and find his voice. "No."

"Honey." And Anne's voice and face were absolutely pleading with him. "Please, we can't stall like this. It's just a few minutes away, we have to get back now. I told you, your father will-"

"Anne." N couldn't look at her. His voice felt constricted, like someone was choking him, trying to keep him from talking where he couldn't spill out his worries and terror. "Please. _Please_, I'm begging you. Don't take me back there."

"Honey, I-"

"Let me leave. I'll turn around and run, and you go wherever you want. Please, don't take me back there." He could finally leave. It had taken so long to work up the courage to do what he was doing now, and he couldn't waste this opportunity. "I hate it there. Let me leave, please."

Maybe Anne didn't really give a damn about him. Maybe she was just doing her job and let her sympathetic nature take things too far. She reached out, nabbing his hand again, saying, "I'm so sorry," before pulling him along behind her.

Anne was not very strong. N could easily have snatched himself out of her grip once again, but it was the rejection that stabbed him in the stomach the most. It felt like physical pain, her blatant behavior, like she didn't even give a damn he was raped almost every night by his own father. It made him sick to his stomach that someone, someone like her who seemed so nice, could be this cruel to him and render him almost in tears. Because he hated it! _He fucking hated it! He hated the castle, he hated his room, he hated daddy-!_

Even Zorua whimpered next to his ear, cuddling him and bringing him warmth. He couldn't let her down, he-

"No!" Snatching his arm out of her grip once more, N stumbled back, almost falling over. "No! I won't go back! I hate it there!"

"N!" Her voice shocked him. "You are acting like a spoiled brat! I took you out here to give you a nice birthday present and this is how you thank me? If you run away from me, I swear I will notify every Team Plasma member to look for you and you can deal with your father once they find you."

For someone who seemed so sweet earlier to be this cruel to him, N couldn't help it and cried. He just wanted to be safe. He just wanted everything to end. Why wouldn't anyone help him? Why wouldn't they just let him leave? He never bothered any of them, he never gave anybody any trouble, but they insisted on keeping him locked up in that place forever for his father to treat him like dirt every opportunity he got.

Why were people this way? Was it just human nature to be cruel? N felt a little of Zorua's pain. She had been abused and tortured by her owners, and they left her for dead. But Ghetsis gave her to him, probably so he would have someone to relate to.

She was all he had.

Snatching his wrist up once again, Anne didn't just tug him along, she yanked him everywhere, almost causing him to fall over. Her fingernails dug into his flesh and he bit his lip to keep from making any noise. She was angry at him. Just because he wanted to be safe, she was mad.

The castle came into view after N managed to dry his face off. The horrible pit in his stomach remained, but the tears finally stopped. It never failed that he felt less than dirt when he cried, but he couldn't help it. Maybe N was just a bad person and everyone was right. Maybe he only cried because everything was his fault and he wasn't man enough to deal with it. He hated himself so much.

"...You should go back to your room." The back door that led to the kitchen was opened and the smell of boiling meat met N when Anne yanked him into the room. Since it was late, not many people were still around, so after Anne shut the door and walked off, N was free to roam wherever he wanted. If this freedom was even his choice anymore.

But, he wanted to go lie down. Even though the other cooks who were still there offered him more cake, he had to politely decline. Even thinking of food made him sick. He just wanted to go sleep for a long time. He wished he could just sleep forever and never have to deal with real life.

Or maybe that was childish of him.

Removing his coat since it was warmer, he wrapped it around Zorua and held her close before making his way out of the kitchen, into the dining area, and into the hall. N never stayed out late like this, so it was kind of unsettling how quiet the castle was. Every time he'd hear indistinct voices, he would flinch, not expecting it. After climbing a flight of stairs, he was soon facing the door to his room and paused before opening it. For a place he hated so much, he felt ashamed he was so submissive like this.

His emotions were constantly in turmoil and it made him physically sick at himself. Because everything was his fault. He let daddy hurt him, he made Anne angry, he made everyone hate him. Everything was his fault.

Turning the knob, N froze in the doorway when he found his father seated on his bed, the light from the hallway adding to the dim lamp and lighting up his messy room from his tantrum earlier.

His father looked angry and he wasted no time. "Where have you been?"

"I-"

"Come in. Close the door."

The pit in his stomach felt heavier, like he had swallowed a bunch of rocks. He was going to vomit from fear, he-he couldn't let this happen again. No. No.

No.

Daddy would hurt him. N couldn't let that happen, no. With his heart pounding against his chest, his stomach coiled in fear, and his mind screaming at him to run, N turned around and raced down the hallway.

Never had N felt anything like this before. It was pure fear, and it was controlling him, keeping him going, the only thing that would save him. No matter what Anne said, no matter what any of them told him, _he had to leave now!_

He was in tears as he ran, his fear bubbling up and making him whimper, because DADDY WOULD HURT HIM, DADDY WOULD HURT HIM, and NO! N couldn't let that happen! He had to save himself! If nobody else would help him, then N would have to do this on his own. The overwhelming knowledge that his father was right behind him kept him going, and N ran like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. Maybe daddy would get so mad sometime, he would kill him. But wouldn't that be better? A life of pain and misery, or no life at all?

But tonight, with Black and White, it reminded him that there were good things in life, and he could experience them if he just ran.

So N ran, sobbing, crying, because he was scared, and he didn't dare let go of Zorua, keeping her held tightly against him, and he raced down the stairs, almost tripping down them, running past a few confused team plasma members, and trying to find a way out.

The kitchen. If N could make it there, he could run, he could run and run and run and make it to the town and daddy wouldn't find him there. He hoped anyway.

Tearing down the hall, N ran faster than he'd ever run in his life, bursting into the dining area and slamming the door behind him. Hurried footsteps echoed behind him, and N hoped he'd put some distance between himself and his father. But Ghetsis was tall. What if-

N ran to the door that led to the kitchen and jiggled the handle, screaming at himself when he realized it was locked. Why-of all the god damn times-_WHY_? Was this punishment?

Trying to control himself, N did the only rational thing he could think of and ducked under the table, concealing himself under the tablecloth. If daddy ran somewhere else, he would come out later and run out the front entrance. It was another flight of stairs down, but he would take it. But what if those doors were locked too? Then he would find a way to open it. Simple.

Because he had to get out, there was no turning back. If daddy caught him now-he couldn't think of it.

So N sat there, curled into a ball under the table and trying to breathe and control his sobbing, Zorua shivering like mad under him. It would be okay, he had to tell himself that, because it would. It would be okay.

The door burst open, slamming back against the wall and N almost screamed, but managed to swallow it and tell himself to shut up, or he would die. Because daddy would probably kill him if he caught him.

Whoever entered stomped toward the table and began knocking chairs over. It had to be his daddy, it had to be, and the tablecloth wrinkled around the area N was hiding. Daddy would find him, DADDY WOULD FIND HIM! His heart was pounding so hard against his chest, N wouldn't be surprised if the whole castle heard it.

The chair in front of him was pulled back and knocked over, the tablecloth flipping up and N felt a hand wrap itself around his ankle, dragging him out. He screamed, because he knew it was daddy, he knew everything was over, that this was it, his only chance, and he completely fucked it up.

Daddy flipped him over, straddling him, and began to slap him, punch him, hit any part of his body he could reach, but N fought back, holding his hands up to protect his face and screaming at his father. "NO, STOP! DADDY, STOP! D-DADDY!"

"DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID?!" Never had N heard his father scream like he was doing. It wasn't just yelling, it all came out as an icy scream. "YOU THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE YOU LEFT?" More punches to his face, ones N tried to block with his arms, but daddy just hit those too, and it hurt, it stung, N could already feel bruises and scratches forming. His entire skin was on fire, bringing more tears to his eyes.

Pleading, because-because it was all he could do. Anything to make it stop. Just.

Stop.

"DADDY, PLEASE, I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!"

Ghetsis then wrapped his fingers around his throat, lifting his son's head off the ground and slamming it back down, making N see black for a few seconds. "YOU'RE SO GOD DAMN STUPID! YOU THINK I'M A MORON, IS THAT IT?! IS THAT IT, N, HUH?" Again, N was lifted, just like that time he cried in bed, just like before, and slammed down again.

But he couldn't plead anymore, he couldn't scream. His voice was gone, not just hoarse. He let daddy hurt him, he gave up, he wanted to die, and he hoped once daddy was through, he would be dead.

But when the punches and slaps and scratching stopped, N was pulled up by his hair, letting out a yelp when he didn't expect it, his father bringing him up with him before dragging him out of the room.

"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? You think I'd let you get away with this? You're so god damn stupid, I'm ashamed to even call you my son." Ghetsis's voice was cracked from screaming, but his harsh grip on N's hair didn't falter. He yanked him up the stairs, ignoring the stares a few wandering Team Plasma members gave him, and literally pushed N into his room once they reached it. "I was going to be lenient with you and let you wander around, but if you're going to be such a fucking disobedient shit, you can just stay in here for the rest of your life."

N writhed on his floor, tears still falling freely from his face and stinging his already bruised and scratched cheeks. He couldn't tell where all daddy had hit him, but he knew the marks would show up eventually.

With daddy standing in his doorway, N could see Zorua jump up behind him, having followed them up the stairs, growling at him, nipping at his robes, and N wanted to scream at her to stop, but he froze when daddy picked her up and, without saying a word, twisted her neck.

Even from where he was sprawled on the floor, N heard the faint crack that came from her and his entire body and mind shut off when Ghetsis threw her at him. His door was slammed shut and N stared at Zorua, at his Zorua, lying motionless in front of him.

Everything was silent then. Everything hurt, his skin stung, it ached, the horrible pit of fear in his stomach was...gone. For once, N felt an overwhelming realization hit him like never before. The thing he loved most, the one thing he vowed to protect and rescue along with himself was gone.

Zorua was gone. She was gone, dead.

But he loved her, she-

Tears fell, N didn't bother stopping them. He didn't feel ashamed. Zorua's small, battered form lay in front of him.

Broken.

N was in complete shock, not even his mind could wrap around what was happening, but he managed to move his body. He reached over, crawling on his hands and knees, and touched her soft fur, her still body, and he picked her up with care, cradling her like she was a baby.

She hung limp in his arms like a rag doll and that's when it hit him. Like he was hit with a freight train, it hit him so hard, he couldn't express it in just emotion alone.

N cried, holding the one creature he ever loved and the one thing that ever loved him back. She was gone. Gone. He couldn't stop repeating those horrible words over and over in his head.

Gone.

He cried. And cried, rocking back and forth on his knees with Zorua's limp body hugged tightly to his chest, and he cried because he knew she would never move again.

"I-I'm sorry." He couldn't protect her, he couldn't keep his promise, he was such a fuck up. And now she was dead because of him, because he was so god damn stupid.

N was alone. For the first time in his life, he was truly alone. And it settled with him physically while he sat there and rocked Zorua over and over for hours, still crying fresh tears that never seemed to stop.

He was alone, and she was broken.

* * *

**Next chapter may or may not be in Ghetsis's point of view. I'm going to do a detailed flashback that involves N's mommy, so it's either going to get its own chapter, or I'll mash it in with current events somehow. Anyway, just a warning. **

**Anyway, now that I'm working, it might take awhile like this one, so I apologize. But hey, we're getting closer to the ending. Yay.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Yet another short chapter. This wasn't supposed to be broken up like this. It was supposed to be one long ass chapter, but with my job and school getting in the way, it's taking a lot longer to write these things than it used to, so I hope you guys don't mind short chapters like this from now on. Hey, it'll make it last longer, I hope. It might not seem like it, but this fic is nearing its end. I don't know how many more chapters there will be, but it'll get written when it gets written, that's all I have to say. **

**As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed. It seriously makes my day knowing you guys enjoy my writing. So thanks.**

* * *

Ghetsis could have considered his life pleasant at most during his childhood. With both his mother and father being filthy rich, he had everything handed to him on a silver platter. If he wanted new toys, his mother went out and bought them. If he wanted a certain pokemon, his father dropped everything to get it for him. Everything he wanted, he got. He was used to this, and when things were not handed to him at the snap of a finger, his initial reaction was to get angry.

He didn't like pokemon very much. Even if he wanted one that looked cool or tough, it was all just to show off to his friends. He hated taking care of them. They were for him to exploit as he pleased, and they served their purpose well. At school, the kids would mock him about not having a certain pokemon they had, how it was strong and fought for them. Not about to back off from a challenge, Ghetsis whined and screamed himself hoarse until his mother or father gave him what he wanted.

One pokemon in particular that seemed to stand out from the rest was the Hydreigon. All the kids at school were scared of it. They said it was a horrible, scary pokemon that attacked anything that moved, and it was difficult to catch one because of how brutal it was.

Naturally, Ghetsis had to have it.

After much whining, tantrums, and broken objects around the castle he lived in, his father finally quaked and paid a lot of money for it to be caught, just for him.

Ghetsis hated the thing from the start. Even in its pokeball, it would make noise and keep him up at night. How he hated that thing. When it needed care, he made the maids take care of it, despite their protests that it was an evil creature and had the potential to harm them.

Not that Ghetsis cared. As long as it did its job, he could care less what the damn thing did to all those useless servants living under his law. And it did do its job of making him look tough. The children at school couldn't believe rich boy Ghetsis Harmonia had a Hydreigon.

Like his childhood, his adolescence was driven by getting what he wanted and lavishing himself in riches and pokemon everyone else wanted. Of course, once they served their purpose, he got rid of them. He couldn't even think a time when he had let one out of its pokeball. The servants did the care giving for him.

Still, the Hydreigon stayed, and he couldn't even figure out why he decided to keep it. But, when he stared at it in its ball, adoring the way it would glare up at him and thrash around, he could smile, because here it was, a powerful, brutal pokemon, a dangerous monster, right in the palm of his hand, and it couldn't hurt him. That gave him a rush of excitement, knowing he was in full control and knowing he had all the power in the world to do what he wanted.

His mother and father stayed gone a lot, so Ghetsis remained alone in the castle most of his time, the time he wasn't in school making sure everyone knew he was rich and had powerful pokemon. He knew the maids hated him, but it wasn't like he cared. He didn't like them either. As long as he could stay in his room, study, and smile at his prize, at the Hydreigon, he was content.

Not happy, never happy. Not all the money or possessions in the world could ever make him happy. He already had everything he wanted, but there was always a pit of emptiness he could feel inside him, something riches couldn't fill.

He supposed that was stupid, to refer to it as that. But even at school, at home, being alone constantly without his mother or father made him a little lonely. Most of the kids hated him because he was snooty, but he didn't care. Let everyone hate him, let the world despise him, because he despised everything the world had to offer.

His castle, his enormous bedroom, his strong pokemon, his excellent grades, none of that mattered to him. He hated it all, he hated the way he lived, the way his parents were never home, the way the Hydreigon would glare at him like it wanted to rip his spinal cord out.

Power meant nothing. And Ghetsis couldn't figure out why he was always angry about everything, why he'd become throwing random temper tantrums out of the blue. He would be studying, a normal day, a sunny day after school with a test bearing down on his back, and he would be reading and writing words over and over to memorize them, and then he would snap.

Books were thrown, his chair was chucked against a wall, and the ball Hydreigon rested in was slammed to the floor, rattling the pokemon inside it. Releasing his anger and frustration felt good. Very good. Seeing things break made him swell up on the inside until he could smile, and laugh. Because he could do it, he had the power to change things, and he took a normal chair, and broke it. He changed it. He ripped the papers from his textbooks. It didn't matter, he could buy another one. He hurt Hydreigon who roared inside its ball and smiled at it.

Pathetic. All of it. Every little thing in the world was below him, and he balled his hands into fists until his nails pierced the flesh and drew blood. His laughter stopped, and he glared down at the pokeball on his floor. Even this thing, this so-called powerful monster was rendered useless because of him. He had the money and power to do whatever the hell he wanted, and he hated it.

Because what was a life without challenge? Everything, everyone bent over backwards for him, and he didn't want it. It made him angry. He wanted people to hurt, to realize he was better, but he wanted them to fight too, not just sit back and let him run over them. People were so stupid, and so were pokemon. All these children going on 'journeys' to find themselves or some stupid shit, it was moronic. Running around by themselves and using monsters to protect them wasn't teaching them anything about life. It was teaching them to be weak and rely on a giant monster to do everything for them.

Ghetsis hated people. He hated school, he hated the teachers, the students, his mother and father, every god damn one of the maids in this place.

Eyeing the pokeball on the floor, Ghetsis picked it up, admiring how beautiful the Hydreigon looked as it roared in the ball and snapped its jaws up at him. How cute. It wanted to hurt him and he felt a rush swim through him at the thought of this thing challenging him. He wanted to hurt it, to beat it, to kick it, to cut into it, and see it grovel at its master's feet.

It was a pathetic monster, but Ghetsis was perfect. He wanted to show this thing just how perfect he was.

Pressing the button on the ball, he threw it across his room and grinned when the Hydreigon emerged, growing back to its normal size and letting out an angry roar. So funny how monsters could express emotion. Maybe it was more human than he gave it credit for. Weren't emotions just limited to being human? Monsters and animals only had instinct. It was instinct to feel rage and hate toward a tormentor.

Ghetsis would not lie, he knew he had treated it poorly, but he didn't care.

It came at him, moving faster than he thought possible, until Ghetsis found himself pinned against his wall.

He would show it just how perfect he was. Perfection was viewed by the same for everyone. Flawless, unscathed, unblemished. Ghetsis hated it, hated the world's perception of what perfect was. He would change himself, he would be perfect in his own mind.

The Hydreigon's head reared back before slamming down against him, its other two heads biting at his arms and tearing at the flesh until he was bleeding. The pain made him scream, and he at once regretted his decision. When the Hydreigon bore down on him, its teeth in his face, its hot breath stale in his face, he screamed when it tore into his face, marring his handsome features, ripping at his delicate skin, and rendering the vision in his right eye to black. A sickening, squishy noise met his ears and Ghetsis wanted to vomit when he realized what it had done.

His screaming alerted the servants and maids, and when his door was thrown open, the Hydreigon wrestled until it was back in its ball, Ghetsis bent over and vomited, screaming when he saw his blood drip from him, screaming at the agony in his face, and crying tears that he could only feel from the left side on his face. His vision was completely black on one side.

The maids let out terrified gasps and began calling for doctors, nurses, anyone who could help him. They bent down to him, giving him warm rags and towels to wipe the blood from him, and one maid began crying when she saw his missing eye, ripped from his socket and nothing but a distorted mess against his bloody face.

When the shock had passed, when Ghetsis was bandaged and placed in the hospital ward of the castle, while he lay there, sore and partially blind, his parents never came to visit him, to see how their son was doing, he could smile. Because now he was perfect.

* * *

"Look at me."

Despite his face burning in humiliation, N obeyed his father and opened his eyes. Ghetsis was leaning over him, smothering him with his body as he fucked him. It was scary how routine this had become, how something so horrible had been done to him so much that N didn't give a second thought to what his father did to him now. Like always, when Ghetsis came in, N submitted his body and mind to him. There was no more fighting, no more screaming or crying. There was nothing anymore.

N had no hope left anymore, so what was the point in thinking anything would ever change? Because it never would. He had learned the hard way, but daddy finally opened his eyes to the truth. The painful truth, that N belonged to him, that he was an object and not a person, that Ghetsis could do whatever he wanted, that when Ghetsis said he would do something, it was done.

The way N's stomach churned with nausea as his father went in and out of him, it always made him sick, but sick at himself. Daddy wasn't to blame, it was all N's fault. And he deserved this for killing Zorua. Every bad thing daddy did to him, no matter what happened, N knew now everything was his fault. It was punishment, because he was a terrible person.

He wanted to believe he was a victim, that he would be saved, someone in the castle would help him, but he knew better now. He'd been ignorant, so very ignorant, and it did not go unpunished.

There was no remorse in his father's face when he was forced to look up at him, at that one, uncovered eye that stared back at him. And why would there be any remorse? If this was all N's fault anyway, then he shouldn't and would not expect any less from his own father.

Ghetsis's hands explored his body, raking down his sides and piercing his flesh. But that was nothing. Scratches were welcome compared to being bit or burned or choked. His father never left anything too simple and when things got boring for him, he never failed to get creative. Ghetsis's creativity usually resulted in N being tied up in some form or fashion. Once he was bound with tape which his father seemed to take pleasure in ripping it off him afterward and kissing the red marks until they burned.

Now N had his wrists bound by rope. Ghetsis had pulled his arms over his head until N was trapped in a sort of awkward hug with him, his arms mostly resting on Ghetsis's neck and shoulders. Wherever Ghetsis moved, N was dragged along with him. So when he sat up, still inside of him, N was pulled up. Strangely, Ghetsis took a lot of care in being gentle as he moved N on top of him, where N rested in his lap, his wrists still tied behind his father's neck. N always knew never to trust his father's movements. A gentle touch would often result in a violent slap directly afterward, or even a bite hard enough to draw blood. As much as this happened every other night, N was surprised at himself for not memorizing his father's body language any better. Most things were predictable, like when Ghetsis ordered him to move up and down on top of him, which N did without a fight. He knew how to move, how to work, and what would please his daddy. Using his daddy's shoulders and neck as support, he did the best he could moving his thighs and legs up and down, up and down, trying not to wince at the uncomfortable feeling below him.

It didn't hurt anymore, but that didn't mean it wasn't always uncomfortable.

And sometimes, it would feel good. That scared N very much, because he never wanted anything good associated with this. It was punishment, it was twisted and insane, so when his father would move just right, or when N moved like he was doing now, he would often find that when he moved down, something would be hit, and it made him want to moan. It was like an itch, like the times daddy had pumped him, but different. That tiny little itch that felt so strange, but gradually felt better the more it was brushed against, and it made him hard.

It was always humiliating feeling himself get hard at that feeling, at something so horrible, and hearing his father comment on it. N was called a slut, a whore, and filthy when he'd get hard. But he didn't blame his father for his harsh words, because N thought the exact same thing. He was trash, filthy and deserved the verbal abuse as much as the physical.

"N, don't turn away from me."

He hadn't realized his gaze drifted from Ghetsis to the wrinkles in his bed sheets, but once his father spoke, N snapped back to reality and did as he was told. Too often N found himself trying to daydream and escape, but Ghetsis would have none of that. As he looked back at his father, his face still red from shame, Ghetsis leaned forward and kissed him. Kissing was just as disgusting as sex, but N had been taught his lessons, so he knew how to work his tongue in the manner his father approved. Just as predicted, Ghetsis pressed his mouth against his harder, like he was hungry for more, in a literal sense. He licked N's teeth, his lips, and the inside of his mouth while N did the same.

The overwhelming pit of horror in his stomach never went away. It always scared him when this happened, even though he knew what to do, even though he knew what to expect. It made him sick when his father kissed him, and when he kissed back. He was more ashamed of himself for participating than anything else. Because fighting would be better than submitting, but after being tortured so much, N didn't know which was worse anymore.

Ghetsis moaned in his mouth and N sped up his movements, feeling a small sliver of relief when Ghetsis stopped kissing his mouth long enough to move to his neck. That always felt better than having to kiss back, because N wasn't directly partaking. Let daddy kiss his skin all he wanted. With the chill in the air, the area his father hit with his tongue froze when he moved to a new section of skin. The whole while, N never stopped moving, nor did he fight back or hesitate once.

Because it was all inevitable, and he knew that now. When Ghetsis got close, he bit down on the crook of N's neck, causing him to wince and whimper aloud, but he didn't scream. Daddy didn't hit him for making noises anymore. In fact, it was almost like he liked them. When N whimpered, Ghetsis went faster, and so did N. He knew. Any minute now, it would all be over and he would be left alone again, just like always.

With a finally thrust upward, Ghetsis gripped N's arms tight and squeezed when he orgasmed, hissing through his teeth as he slowed down his rhythm to drag out the feeling. N grunted at the feeling of the hot white stuff going inside of him, but he stayed still, obedient, waiting for Ghetsis's next order.

Slowly, Ghetsis pulled all the way out of him, letting N relax in his lap a little. His face burned at the fact that he was still hard, and he hoped Ghetsis would leave without any stinging comments on it. Things were never easy for him, but N knew that, so he was hardly surprised when Ghetsis lifted his arms from around his neck and told him to rub himself.

Before, N would have hesitated, he would have cried or at least fought back. He would be wondering why daddy was doing this to him, why he chose to rape him over every single person in the castle, and he would have felt the need to be saved and released from this hell. But, N knew better. Life just didn't work that way and he'd found that out the hard way. So he gripped himself the best he could with his bound wrists and rubbed up and down his own erection.

Thankfully, daddy didn't make him look at him this time, so N was able to stare at his bed sheets instead. With his own hands now on him, it was a relief to be able to satisfy the itch, as horrible as that sounded. Biting his lips, N concentrated, knowing better than to picture himself far, far away from here, and instead focused on the feeling itself. That itch, that feeling of climbing higher and higher, the complete feeling of satisfaction. He pumped harder, feeling his muscles twitch at the feeling and he jerked a little when the feeling began to reach its peak. Precum seeped out which was used as lube, making it feel so much better to be slightly warm and slick.

Daddy said nothing the entire time N masturbated in his lap. He was ordered to do this, so he complied without complaint.

Compliant and silent. That was all N was anymore.

As he felt himself about to explode, Ghetsis tilted his face up by his chin, kissing him once more as N finally orgasmed, not being able to hold back. He moaned in his father's mouth, spasming as he let everything go and enjoyed the small haze afterward where nothing felt wrong, where nothing bad happened.

With reality crashing back down on him, N fell limp in his father's lap, ever awaiting the next order, knowing he was to be completely submissive. Preparing for the inevitable had become almost second nature. N was not afraid anymore.

Daddy kissed him again, his hands and fingers exploring more of N's body, his stomach specifically. "You're gaining weight." It wasn't like N had a companion to run around with anymore, but he just nodded, knowing what would come next. "I don't want you fat, so I'm going to put a hold on the meals being brought to you."

And all N could do was nod and say, "Yes sir" as daddy continued kissing him, and N let him have his full. He gave himself over completely, something he hadn't done before. At least he fought or even had his doubts about things. But now, he knew better, he knew things would not change only because he wanted them too. That was childish and stupid. Wishing for help would not bring help. Dreaming of leaving wouldn't guarantee him escape. What mattered were his actions, but it wasn't like he could fight off his father. Physical strength was not something he possessed, and he knew better than to think like that.

So N gave up. Handing over his mind and body, he listened and did what he was told. Everything daddy asked of him, N gave it to him. And if daddy thought N was holding back or disobeying him, N was punished. Punishment was always deserved. N did not cry when he was hit. He didn't think bad thoughts about his father, or think of being a victim. Because he wasn't, he was just a bad person whose parent was trying to raise them properly. That's all it was and would ever be.

And if daddy thought he was getting fat and didn't need as much food, then N would just have to accept the change and move on. Nothing would ever work the way he wanted, life would not hand him things simply because he was displeased with how things were going. Because daddy gave him the life he needed. He provided him with everything he needed to survive. A roof over his head, a restroom, a warm bed to sleep in, food when he needed it, and books to read to keep him entertained. The basic necessities, and if N wanted more, then he was selfish for it. So in order to pay back daddy for giving him everything he needed, N listened and obeyed.

Ghetsis stood away from the bed, taking a few strands of N's hair in his hands and twirling them around his finger. "You have the most beautiful hair. It curls by itself and falls into the right places without you even having to do anything. Don't you like your long hair, N?"

N nodded. "Yes sir." Even though he used to hate it, if it's what daddy wanted, then he had to like it.

"You're already beautiful." As he spoke, Ghetsis reached down to the floor, grabbing his pants that'd been thrown there earlier. "I want you more beautiful. I want you perfect."

N nodded. "Yes sir." Whatever daddy wanted, N had to give it to him. He had to make himself the person daddy wanted. Even if he had to get on his hands and knees and beg him, to let him know he would change for him, N would do whatever he could to please daddy.

"You know." With his pants back on, Ghetsis positioned himself back on N's bed, leaning over him enough to make N draw backward out of reflex. Grabbing N's bare arm, Ghetsis twisted it in both hands. N bit the blood from his lip to keep from wincing. "You're very pale. I don't like it. It's too much of one thing. You need a little color on your skin." It took every ounce of willpower N possessed to keep from crying out when Ghetsis dug his nails into his arm, dragging them up and down to create scratches. Already, N's flesh was red and swollen around the cuts, but he did not make a sound.

If this was what Ghetsis wanted, who was N to backtalk? To save himself? To think this was as bad as he was making it?

He accepted it. To himself, he had to keep telling himself he belonged to his father, he was nothing more than an object, not a person anymore. People weren't treated this way. And in retrospect, this was not as bad as some of the things daddy had made him do.

Scratches lined his arms which Ghetsis smiled at. "You are more beautiful now. You are perfect."

N looked upon the scratches oozing blood with the feeling of depression coming in waves, a feeling that never went away. But he nodded to his father. He couldn't smile anymore. "Thank you, daddy."

Ghetsis didn't even get mad at him anymore for saying such a childish word like 'daddy'. N couldn't help it. He hated calling him Ghetsis. And it was just a word, after all, and maybe Ghetsis realized this. It wasn't weakness or patronizing. It was the only word N could think to call him, because. Ghetsis _was _his daddy, his parent, his guardian who knew what was best for him, who loved him, who only wanted good things for him.

"Daddy?" Sometimes N could even talk to him like a normal person would. They would have normal conversations, normal things to talk about.

"What?" Again, Ghetsis had moved off the bed, fishing around for his clothes on the floor, leaving N's where they were. N didn't care. He covered himself with the bed sheets, not that it mattered. He'd seen daddy naked so many times and daddy had seen him naked, so there was really no point in covering it up.

"Daddy, do you love me?"

As he smoothed down the shirt he'd just thrown on, Ghetsis paused before speaking. "What are you talking about?"

N was allowed to speak about things like this. It wasn't like he was out of line. It was a reasonable, legitimate question he'd been meaning to ask for awhile, but never got the chance. Daddy wouldn't punish him for that. "I love you. Do you love me?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

A simple yes or no would have satisfied him, but N didn't blame him. It was an off the wall question, after all, of course daddy would be thrown off at first. "I just...want to know. That's all. I'm sorry." If he was doing wrong, an apology might soften any punishment he had coming, but that never worked. He knew that, though. He wouldn't have asked something so out of context if he wasn't prepared for the repercussions.

But daddy didn't hit him, or even raise his voice at him. He simply gathered the rest of his robes and walked toward N's door saying, "You are my son," before he exited, closing the door and locking it behind him.

N was alone again.

Standing from his bed, he picked up his discarded clothes and put them in a neat pile by the door for either Concordia or Anthea to come by later and get them for washing before he walked into the bathroom and set to work cleaning himself.

The lavender shampoo Ghetsis made him use was all gone, but he was glad. It made him sick anyway. He got to bathe with something that smelled like strawberries instead, which wasn't as strong. It squirted a translucent red in his hand which he used to lather up his long hair and the rest of his body.

He hated his hair. He hated it. Even washing it free from everything made him grimace at the fact that it took twice as much shampoo than it would have normally, that he had to be so wasteful just to keep it...beautiful.

Daddy's thoughts had to become his though, so he had to make himself like it. All these horrible thoughts had to go away, even when daddy wasn't here. N had to train himself to think the way daddy wanted him to, to act the way he wanted him to.

The suds rinsed from him and swirled down the drain along with the rest of the dirty water and N stepped out, his mirror steamed. Walking toward it, he pressed a towel against the mirror, wiping a section away until he could see his reflection. He was only 15, but he already looked older. No matter what daddy said to him, every time N looked at himself, he saw a horrible person. An ugly person, someone with dimples in their cheeks, a deformity, a long nose, faint freckles, green eyelashes. What was so beautiful about that? Daddy had been right about one thing. N was gaining weight. He used to run around with Zorua to get his exercise, but without her, there was nothing to do. His arms were getting fuller and his stomach was beginning to poke out instead of being sunken in. N was in no ways fat, but he wasn't as skinny as he used to be. But if daddy said he wasn't allowed to eat, N had to comply and assume daddy knew best.

He ran his fingers down the mirror, smudging the already steamed surface. What was so beautiful about him? He was ugly. Tall, lanky, his hair bushy from being washed. Why did daddy do this to him? What made him stand out? He wasn't beautiful. N was not beautiful.

Balling his hands into a fist, he punched his mirror in, shattering it. Now it was broken, and he saw himself multiple times in those shards hanging out, some having fallen into the sink. Broken, just like him. Because he was ugly, so now he wouldn't have to look at how ugly he was anymore.

* * *

**More flashbacks of younger Ghetsis to come. And more N angst. **


	11. Chapter 11

**I am free from school for an entire month. Hot damn, yes. I may actually have time to write now. As always, thanks to those of you who reviewed. **

* * *

Had anyone told Ghetsis he would soon be alone, he would soon inherit an entire castle full of servants and riches, that he would have more money than anyone knew what to do with, that his parents were dead and he owned everything, he would have rolled his eyes. As far as he knew, he had all of that already. He had the money, the power, the privilege. Everything anyone ever wanted, he had. His entire life was spent living in this castle, bossing around people who hated him, studying for school so that his grades remained perfect, and getting what he wanted.

He was 25 when he was returning home from school. He had decided to go to college and master something useful, something like being a doctor. Definitely not a stupid pokemon trainer. He wanted nothing to do with the filthy things. Being a doctor would give him an excuse to cut into people too. He was never interested in medicines, or healing the sick, or any of that. It was just something he could spend his time on, something to waste money with.

He had finally finished medical school, he was finally done with everything, until he arrived home that day not going into his room like he had planned, or locking himself away from everyone where he could be alone, but instead he was tugged along by a maid who was telling him his parents were killed while returning from a trip.

The maid then proceeded to tell him about the responsibilities he had to shoulder now, all the money he had inherited, how the entire castle was his to do with as he pleased, but Ghetsis had tuned her out.

His mother and father were gone. Gone. There was something about that word that made him reel inwardly. Growing up, all he had remembered was demanding things from them and getting those things, no matter what it was. Whatever he wanted, he screamed and ranted until he got it. Ghetsis had never really spent time with his parents. He was never read bedtime stories as a child by his mother, he never played baseball with his father, he never really interacted with them unless he wanted something.

The news that they were dead only made him say, "Oh" before he finally began to understand what the maid was telling him. His parents were rich, which made him rich. Now that they were gone, he had entire free reign over their money, to do anything that he wanted with. The castle was his, the servants, the maids, everything was his now.

He stood from the chair he'd been seated in, marveling at everything that was his now, smiling because he was now god in this place, he could do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was to make everything perfect.

It did not take the castle long to realize life would be very different with Ghetsis in charge. They still hated him and he still knew everyone hated him, but he didn't care. As long as he remained in control of everything, and as long as this place was perfect to him, he didn't care what anyone thought of him.

It was only a few short months later that Ghetsis realized what exactly he'd gotten himself into. Managing the castle was stressing him out, barking orders over every little thing and making decisions was driving him over the edge. It wouldn't be long before he had a nervous breakdown, and he couldn't take it anymore.

He needed to get out.

While things had calmed down for the most part, Ghetsis decided to get out for awhile, so he could breathe and relax a little. Setting his sights on Nimbasa, he decided to catch up with a friend he'd met during school, an older man named Zinzolin. They weren't best buddies, but he envied Zinzolin's goals and outlook on life. All he wanted was to know everything he could about everything. A bit of a philosopher, they had interesting conversations and enjoyed each other's company for the most part.

Nimbasa was always swarming with people, which Ghetsis didn't care for. He hated the crowds. And that's probably why he and Zinzolin got along. They both felt the same about the world, they both hated people by default, they both felt the world's view of perfection was flawed. Despite the crowds, the groups of people complaining about everything, the children yelling and screaming at their parents and the parents ignoring them, Ghetsis didn't mind the rides so much. Like any other person, going to an amusement park was supposed to be...fun. Perhaps it was the childish part of him wanting to get on the roller coasters and the ferris wheel to try and enjoy himself.

He tried not to think about it.

Once he spotted his friend, Ghetsis noticed immediately Zinzolin had another boy with him. A younger boy, which was strange, because the kid looked like he was only in high school. Why would Zinzolin want to hang around with some punk? And what a tacky hairstyle he had. Ghetsis couldn't wrap his mind around how the kid thought dying his bangs blue and styling them around his head was a good idea.

"Hey, Ghetsis," Zinzolin said when Ghetsis walked up. He clapped the younger boy on his shoulder which almost caused him to toppled over backward. Ghetsis wanted to punch his face in already. What a weakling. "This is Colress. I met him a few weeks ago in school."

Ghetsis didn't introduce himself, or extend his hand to shake. He just looked down on the shorter boy who smiled up at him through his glasses. "Shouldn't you be in high school getting your head shoved in a toilet?" Suddenly smiling, Ghetsis laughed to himself. "Oh, I see that's already happened to you, why else would your hair look like that."

Zinzolin shot a glare his way, but Ghetsis continued laughing to himself. Straightening his posture, Zinzolin just rolled his eyes and continued speaking. "Anyway, Colress, this is my friend Ghetsis. We've known each other for awhile. His parents just passed away a few months ago."

Colress's face never changed expression. From the time he was introduced, until the time Ghetsis insulted him, he never stopped smiling. Even with the depressing news that would normally squeeze a sympathetic apology from someone who probably didn't give a damn to begin with, Colress just smiled. "I see. That's too bad."

Ghetsis soon found himself flustered around this boy, not liking him at all. Colress was pompous, he made sure Ghetsis realized he was very smart for his age, and did not hesitate from speaking his mind about everything. Ghetsis would have asked Zinzolin what the hell his problem was, why was he bringing some stupid little kid to hang around with them, but he let his annoyance slide off his back in favor of enjoying the fair.

While the three of them purchased some food from a concession stand, Zinzolin decided to strike up another conversation. "So, Ghetsis, did you know Colress is going to be a doctor like you?"

Not even looking at the younger one, but knowing the smile was there, Ghetsis ate his food while staring at the ground. "I'm not going to be a doctor anymore."

"What?"

That's right, Ghetsis remembered he hadn't really talked to Zinzolin in months. Since his parents died, he hadn't interacted with anyone at all, besides the residents inside his castle. And that was only when he absolutely had to.

"Why not, though? You went to school for 8 years, you're still going to have to go train for another 3 or 4. You worked so hard, why are you throwing it away?"

This time Ghetsis smiled, looking up from the ground to his friend's eyes. "Because what's the point? I already have money and power. I don't need something like that anymore. I didn't want to become a doctor from the start anyway. It was just something I gave myself to do to take my mind off things."

Zinzolin sank in his seat a little. Colress just ate, appearing to be about as interested in the conversation as the strangers passing them by were. "But...Ghetsis, I still don't understand how you could throw it all away."

"It's not important to me. Why do you care anyway? The only thing life is about is growing up, becoming successful, making as much money as you can, and then doing whatever you want. I already have money to do with what I want." He stared at his food again, half-eaten. "I just don't care anymore. I never cared from the start. My parents left me a fortune, so why should I even become a doctor when I already have enough money to sustain me for my entire life? What sense does that make? You work for money, everyone does. Nobody likes their jobs, no matter what, it's always to make money and I already have that, so what's your point, Zinzolin?"

His friend shook his head, seeming no longer interested in eating. "It seems like such wasted time. All that work for nothing. You wasted 8 years of your time that you can't get back."

"Maybe it wasn't wasted time to me."

Zinzolin looked up again. "What do you mean?"

Ghetsis just laughed before finishing what was left on his plate.

The next few hours were spent solely riding roller coasters, peeking at the awful stores with their horrible merchandise, and chatting idly. Zinzolin had finally dropped the doctor conversation and instead steered toward a more interesting topic. Like Colress. Ghetsis still didn't like him, but Zinzolin seemed fascinated with him. "He's studying pokemon."

Ghetsis hated him even more. "Great. Just like every other doctor who devotes their lives towards those stupid monsters." That's why he specifically wanted to study people, so he could cut them up. Not that he would get to do that anymore. Ghetsis was not stupid, but that didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about it.

Colress finally contributed to the conversation instead of just smiling. "I am interested in what they are capable of, but I have studied humans too. Would you like me to examine you? I'm quite confident in my abilities."

Ghetsis rolled his eyes. "I'd rather saw my own arm off, thanks."

Colress chuckled then, his small smile changing to a grin. "You are very hateful toward people, aren't you?"

"I like to hate."

"I despise quite a few people myself, but wishing them death doesn't do anything. I'd rather work on them myself. Wouldn't it feel nice to open them up while they scream and watch their minds go into a frenzy through their eyes while their body suffers? Of course, only an insane person would think like that, but I am not insane."

Arching his eyebrows, Ghetsis just stared at the younger boy, still hating him. "Why aren't you in high school." He demanded, he didn't ask.

"I skipped a few grades because of my intelligence."

Zinzolin smirked from where he stood off to the side, nibbling on some cotton candy he'd bought. "I thought Colress was a pretty cool guy, Ghetsis. Don't you think he's cool?"

"No."

"You'll warm up to him."

As much as he hated Colress, Ghetsis couldn't bring himself to feel loathing toward him. Not like he loathed most people. When he thought about it realistically, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra doctor lying around the castle at his expense. Zinzolin could live there too. Ghetsis didn't mind so much having a few more people walking around, especially ones he could relate to.

The three continued their idle chit chat for awhile after that, snacking on Zinzolin's cotton candy like they were children, when Ghetsis became aware of a kid wandering around near them. He hadn't really been paying attention, but slowly, out of the corner of his eye, his mind became alert to the fact that a small girl holding a stuffed toy was pacing back and forth near where they were sitting. Turning to get a good look at her, he noticed she was crying. Back and forth, back and forth, she walked, desperate, her face pleading with people around her who didn't appear to be paying the slightest bit of attention. Then she held her head down, hugged her stuffed toy, and cried silently into it, rocking on her feet.

"What is it?" Zinzolin noticed Ghetsis was spacing out, looking off in another direction, until he spied the little girl too. "Oh. She's probably lost. These stupid parents can't keep up with their stupid children. Let them come find her."

"Yeah." Still, Ghetsis stared, not knowing why he was suddenly fascinated by her, or why she even caught his attention to begin with. She wasn't a baby, she looked around 10 years old, maybe older. Too old to be hugging onto a stuffed animal like that, he thought anyway. There was something about her he couldn't put his finger on. He couldn't stop staring. And he found he loved watching her cry. He loved, even from where he was sitting, seeing how brilliant her eyes looked while they were bloodshot from tears, how her hair fell into perfect curls around her face, how her cheeks were red from either embarrassment or fear, or maybe both, and how she hugged onto that toy like it would protect her.

She was beautiful.

"...etsis. Ghetsis?"

Blinking and holding his forehead to partially hide his face, Ghetsis turned back to Zinzolin who was starting to look worried.

"Are you okay?"

Colress smiled as he took some more cotton candy from the bag Zinzolin carried. "He seems preoccupied with that kid. Do you want to help her find her parents? She's obviously lost and nobody is helping her. People can be so cruel, really." Colress's words never matched his expression. Smiling, he was always smiling, and it was driving Ghetsis up the wall.

"God dammit." Ghetsis grit his teeth, trying to turn away, trying not to look back at the little girl who had seated herself next to a concession stand and was rocking, so, so close to them. He could see freckles on her face from where he sat. Everyone seemed so completely oblivious to her, it was insane. But, he couldn't stop watching her. Because she seemed so beautiful to him, she seemed perfect. Perfect, in a way he absolutely loved. Her face reddened, those tears still falling, that look of fear and hopelessness, it was perfect.

Ghetsis stood from his seat, the sudden movement causing Zinzolin to drop the bag of cotton candy and stand with him, grabbing his arm. "Whoa, what are you doing?"

Shrugging his arm out of his friend's grip, he ignored him and instead walked toward the little kid, feeling a rush of excitement grow in him with every step. Closer and closer, until he could audibly hear her soft sobs and see tear drops that had fallen onto her arms that were still wrapped around the toy. And then he was right next to her, bending down where he could see faint freckles on her bare shoulders, that stood out so beautifully against her pale skin. How small she was as she rocked back and forth, he was entranced.

He touched her shoulder, and she froze, the only movement she made was to lift her head away from her toy and look up into his eyes.

She was absolutely perfect.

He found himself smiling, and feeling flustered, which made him angry at himself. Why was he nervous like this? "Are you lost?" Even to his own ears, it was strange hearing himself speak so softly. Normally he was grumpy and yelling at everyone, not showing concern for others like this. Or was it concern? It felt like he was enamored, shocked by what a rush seeing her cry gave him, seeing her in fear. It felt kind of good seeing such an expression on a person he realized was very small and helpless. It made him feel powerful and like he could do anything, even reach out and snap her neck if he wanted.

"Yes. I can't find my momma or papa." Even her voice was coated with a slight accent that made him smile.

"Would you like me to help you find them?" From where he was crouched down next to her, Ghetsis could almost feel Zinzolin and Colress's eyes staring through him, wondering what in the world he was doing, why he was even giving a second thought to some stupid kid.

Then she seemed to relax a little. Not smiling or slowing her tears, but he could see the tension in her shoulders disappear. It felt good, very, very good knowing he could change a person like this. "Please, will you help me?"

"Of course." And he extended his hand for her to take, which she did almost instantly, throwing so much trust onto him, a stranger, that it made him laugh a little. Her other hand cupped her toy and held it protectively against her. As Ghetsis straightened and stood, he gave the little girl a soft smile as he closed his fingers around her hand, not letting go. "When was the last time you saw your parents? Do you remember where you were?"

Nodding, she hugged onto her toy again. "We rode the ferris wheel and my papa said he wanted to get food. I went to the bathroom with momma, but it was so crowded, I lost her."

Ghetsis smirked a little, feeling himself shake with excitement at the thought of touching her, leading her around like he was doing. And what morons her parents were, not keeping up with her like they should have. They deserved to be separated from their kid for not keeping their eye on her. He never felt more in control or powerful before as he began heading back toward Zinzolin and Colress. He could literally do anything to this kid, and that made him smile, knowing he had full control, knowing she could do nothing about it. "I think there's a place closer to the city where we can have them paged. I'll take you there. What's your name?"

The small hand wrapped in his seemed to relax a little, and her tears finally stopped, even though he wished they hadn't. He wanted to see her cry more. "Natural."

"It's nice to meet you, Natural."

Then she smiled, the dimples in her cheeks visible. She was more beautiful when she was in tears, though.

Hastening his walk, causing Natural to trip a few times, Ghetsis gave a nod at Zinzolin who was staring at him like he was insane from where they had been eating. Colress was still smiling, but stood alongside Zinzolin and followed him toward Ghetsis's side. He held Natural's hand tighter as if the other two meant to take her away from him.

"Ghetsis." Zinzolin looked a little afraid, because this was so out of character for Ghetsis to be showing any interest in helping someone else, no matter who they were. "What-um. What are you doing?"

"We're going to the city. The subway."

"But...why?"

Ghetsis didn't answer, he simply walked past him, tightening his grip on Natural's hand until she cried out. "_Shh_!" And now he wasn't smiling anymore. He could feel his heart beating so hard in his chest, it was starting to hurt. Bile began to rise in his stomach. It was such a rush, and he liked it. He liked knowing this was insane and twisted, and he liked the tiny sounds of fear coming from the girl. This is what happened when people fed their trust to someone, so she was stupid for it. But he loved the thought of scaring her. She was just a kid after all, but she should have known better.

"Ghetsis, what the _fuck _are you doing?" Zinzolin rushed to keep up with Ghetsis's long strides, his voice starting to quiver with fear for what exactly Ghetsis was planning. He was not as tall as him, and Natural was almost dragged behind him, starting to cry again from him squeezing her hand too tight.

"Mister, please-"

"I told you, we're going to the subway." Completely ignoring Natural's small voice, Ghetsis continued walking. The whole while they hurried past rides and crowds of people, nobody seemed to give a second glance at the odd scene of the three older men carting around a crying little girl. People really were stupid.

Zinzolin furrowed his brow, obviously frazzled and frustrated by Ghetsis's indirect answers. "Yeah, I got that, but what the hell are you planning to do, leave her there or what? Why are we doing this?"

"_No_, just shut up." Ghetsis pushed past a few crowds of people who wouldn't get out of his way until he hissed out through his teeth, "_God dammit_" when Natural tripped and fell, crying again. "Shut the _fuck _up." And her face was absolutely beautiful when she looked up at him in horror instead of relief like before. He snatched up her arm, squeezing it so hard that she choked out a scream, before he lifted her like she weighed nothing, until she was near his face and he could whisper in her ear, "If you scream, I'll kill you." She stayed completely still, not even crying anymore as he carried her away, Zinzolin looking frightened and Colress still smiled, like the entire thing was funny.

"Ghetsis, are you _insane_?!" Zinzolin's face was frozen in shock as he struggled to keep up with his friend after hearing what he'd said to the kid, Colress tailing him. The crowds were starting to die down as they made their way through the amusement park, and finally into the city where there were less people. "Put the kid down and let's go home. You're not feeling well. You can't just-"

"Don't _god damn_ tell me that." Ghetsis was angry now, his voice rising with every word, until Zinzolin was shrinking back, terrified. "I'm taking her with me and both of you are going to shut the fuck up, or I'll make sure you never talk again, _do you understand_?" The rush was being replaced by nerves as it settled in with him what exactly he was doing. He had snatched up a little kid and was carrying her off with him to his castle. Yes, yes, it made such a wonderful feeling boil in his stomach, until the butterflies were making him sick. It felt like he was high, high off of taking this child away and seeing such fear in her. Power made him feel very good.

The white noise that came with the crowds of people had died down by the time they reached the city, the air strangely constricted by horrible silence when they came upon the subway.

Zinzolin stood in front of Ghetsis then before he could make his way down the stairs, trying to keep his eyes off the crying little girl and stare Ghetsis in the eye. "I've known you for awhile, and..." He trailed off before continuing, only making Ghetsis's temper flare the more silence set in. "Just tell me what you're thinking of doing. If all you want to do is leave her in the subway, that's fine, but you're acting so strange. This isn't like you." Ghetsis could tell he was terrified, he was afraid of what he would do to her. Which was strange for Zinzolin to show sympathy for people. Ghetsis had thought he despised people like he did, but maybe he had a soft spot for children.

He didn't care. Ghetsis tightened his grip around Natural's thin legs, feeling himself sweat with excitement when he felt her trembling. Her fear felt so good. "I'm taking her home with me. Are you going to stop me?"

If he had to plow his way through his friend, he would. If he had to fight him off or even kill him, he would.

But then. "No. Of course not."

"Then get out of the way."

Obedient, Zinzolin moved to the side, lowering his head when Ghetsis pushed past him down the stairs to the subway.

* * *

The subway ride home was strained.

Ghetsis made Natural sit beside him, Zinzolin on her other side, and Colress sat on Ghetsis's other side. He wanted to make sure she didn't run off. Zinzolin still looked worried, but he stayed silent this time, probably from fear of angering Ghetsis any further. Colress never said a word, but his smile was starting to disappear. Maybe he was realizing the situation was getting out of control.

When Natural trembled in her seat, Ghetsis could feel every move she made, and it was driving him insane. Reaching over, he put his arm around her, holding her closer to him, not to comfort her, but to make damn sure she didn't try to run off. She must have realized early on something was terribly wrong. She hadn't spoken since they were at the amusement park, which Ghetsis frowned at. He liked hearing the fear shaking in her voice. He especially loved the look she gave him when he threatened to kill her. Of course, he wasn't going to do that, but it worked. She stopped trying to get away.

He still couldn't figure out why he was doing this. Why did he care about some stupid little kid? He didn't, though. He could have cared less about her, but-he couldn't figure it out. Seeing how helpless she was, and realizing he had the power to do anything made him snap. He wanted to feel like he could do absolutely anything to her, knowing there were no consequences, knowing she was completely at his mercy.

It felt good knowing he could do what he want, knowing he could have her.

And she was beautiful, she was. Those freckles on her shoulders and face were so perfect on her. He couldn't get enough of the way her hair framed her face, how small she looked in that pink dress. He wanted her out of it, he wanted to see her entire body.

The ride continued on in silence for the rest of the trip, until the breaks squealed and Ghetsis took her hand, squeezing it, not even bothering to threaten her again. She moved when he did, which satisfied him. They were the only people in the cart, but Ghetsis still couldn't risk someone seeing something odd or hearing him if he had to tell her he would kill her again.

She was shaking, but silent, as were Zinzolin and Colress when they exited the train, and finally walked up the stairs of the subway. It was only a short walk from the city to his castle.

Then Zinzolin spoke up, finally breaking the tension. "What are you going to do?"

Ghetsis didn't bother getting angry at him again. He just tugged Natural along beside him, trying not to look suspicious as crowds of people passed them by. "I'm taking her home with me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to." And that was it. Zinzolin stopped questioning him, Colress stayed silent, not even smiling anymore, and Ghetsis concentrated on making it back home.

The walk was just as strained as the ride, save for everyone's breathing as they walked uphill. Ghetsis normally didn't mind the walk from the city to the woods, but his body was running on adrenaline now. With his heart pounding so hard in his chest, he swore it hurt, he was surprised he hadn't had a nervous breakdown. The reality of what he was doing was plain and simple, but he knew at the same time he had the power and money to do what he wanted. It was still a rush, however, knowing he was kidnapping a little girl, knowing that soon she would be in his castle, knowing he was going to get her naked, and fuck her. Knowing she could do nothing about it made him smile. The maids would wonder what was going on, but he knew they were afraid of him, and wouldn't dare cross him if they found out what he was doing.

The castle came into view, and Ghetsis could hear the girl start crying beside him. She was so small next to him. He bent down to her, gripping her arms tight in case she tried to run, and smiled at her. "How old are you, Natural?"

She didn't answer right away, but he was patient. Besides, he liked watching her face as she struggled to form words and speak. "N-n-nine."

"You're very beautiful, Natural. I won't hurt you if you promise to listen to me. Do you promise?"

A slow nod.

"My name is Ghetsis. Say my name."

"Gh-Ghetsis."

He squeezed her shoulders tighter, loving how his name sounded in her slight accent. "This is my castle. When we go inside, you're going to see a lot of people, but if you speak to them or try to run away from me, I'll hurt you. Do you understand?" His smile never wavered the whole time he spoke, and it only grew wider when Natural's face lit up with fear at his statement. But slowly, she nodded, holding her head down and refusing to look at him. He would deal with that later, but for now, he didn't care. Taking her hand again, and ignoring the stares Colress and Zinzolin were giving him, he walked toward the door that led to the kitchen.

The warmth from inside hit them all like a wall when the door swung open. Ghetsis tightened his grip on Natural's hand, but she did as she was told. They walked past maids who stared at her, but she did not speak, run, or even look back at them. Nobody questioned why their lord was bringing a small girl into the castle, and maybe they didn't even care. Not a word was said, only solid stares were made as they made their way through the kitchen.

It had gotten late during the walk home, so by the time Ghetsis had gone through the dining room and up a few flight of stares, they were completely alone. The castle was normally bustling with people during the day. With the complete silence setting in, he swore he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Zinzolin and Colress had followed him up until now, but when he reached the staircase where his room was located, he turned around to them, snatching Natural with him. "You two can stay here, but don't come up to this hallway. I don't want anyone up here tonight."

Still staring at the girl, Zinzolin nodded, his face showing signs of remorse, but he obeyed, as did Colress. They turned around and left, the only sound following after being their footsteps as they echoed down the halls.

Now alone, Ghetsis could hear Natural's raspy breathing, and he looked down at her. She was still staring at the floor, and he only just now noticed her toy was gone. She must have dropped it at the park, but she looked so skinny and frail without it. No more words were said until Ghetsis reached his room, locking them both inside.

His room had always been red. The comforter, the curtains, the small accents. All red. It was dark when they entered, the only light being from his lamp, but even that didn't help things. Ghetsis never was one for windows, least not in bedrooms. He didn't like the sun intruding on his sleep whenever it wanted, and curtains just didn't cut it sometimes.

"P-please."

Looking back down at Natural, he noticed she was shaking again, tears falling down and hitting the floor. She still refused to look up at him.

"What is it?"

"Wh-what do you w-want?" Now her knees were knocking together, which made him laugh a little. Her voice was turning desperate and he could hear the sobbing start to take over, strangling her speech. "M-my papa will get you money, if that's what you want. Please..."

"I already have enough money to sustain me until the day I die. I don't need your parents' piss poor coins."

The tiny hand in his grip tightened around him. "What do y-you want?"

Bending down to her, he reached out with the hand that wasn't holding onto her, and he lifted her face up to his to see her bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked face. "I want you to look at me, first of all." With the same hand, he moved it down to the straps on her dress, sliding one off her shoulder, exposing more of her freckles that were driving him insane. "Next, I want you out of this dress."

"No." And he was so surprised at her flat out defiance, he only stared at her as she moved away from him, the fear sunken into her eyes. "N-no. No."

"I'm not giving you a choice." His temper was flaring. How dare this...this little bitch tell him no? Again, he reached up, beginning to pull the dress down from her, and she pushed away from him, hard enough to cause him to lose the grip he had on her hand.

"NO! NO!" As she pushed him off her, she stumbled backward, falling up against the wall.

Enraged, Ghetsis took the chance and moved himself over her, making any escape impossible. Before she could scream at him again, he wrapped both hands around her throat, squeezing tight, loving, absolutely loving the fear in her eyes as she stared up at him, pleading at him with her stare. This would teach her a lesson. This would show her his word was law, this would show her everything. "You are not going to tell me no, you little shit." Harder, until she made a muffled cry under him, choking, trying to breathe, the tears still falling down and wetting his hands. "You're going to listen to me, aren't you? You're going to be a good girl and listen to me. Now when I tell you to undress, you're going to fucking do it, do you understand? I say what I mean, and when I say I'm going to hurt you, I will do it."

His hands were removed, and Natural sucked in air, choking as she fought to breathe, her hands moving up and massaging her neck. He wasn't going to take any shit from her. She was going to listen, or he would make her. Nothing angered him more than having an order be rejected.

But seeing her submissive calmed him down a little. She would listen now, he knew. Reaching forward again, he pulled her dress down, and she didn't fight back. He had to smile at her lack of everything. She was not curvy, she had no breasts, no anything, but it made him smile, knowing this was all his now. What she lacked now, she would get someday, though. Without her dress, he could see every little tremor of fear she made, he could see every freckle, every patch of pale skin.

He was getting hard, but he couldn't and didn't want to lose himself now. He wanted more of her. And he wanted her to do it.

After he pulled her panties off, he made her sit upright, and while he didn't immediately make her look him in the eye, he would one day. He could do whatever he wanted, but right now, he wanted her hands on him. He wanted to feel those tiny little pale fingers on his erection, rubbing up and down, up and down.

He unzipped his pants, and grabbed her hand in his, running his fingers over and over it. They were so soft, so small. Her sobs were heard, but he ignored them. Again, he told her, "If you do what I say, I won't hurt you." Then, "I'll teach you."

He took his time rubbing onto her hands, reveling in the soft feel of them, before he pulled her closer, almost into his lap, and put her hands on him. Up and down, he manipulated her, pumping, harder and harder, until he could feel precum seep out. He had already been hard before, but now he was losing control.

"P-please." Her sobs were small, but still heard in the silent room.

"Please what?" Gripping her hand tighter, he didn't want her running off on him while he was this far in. F-fuck, she was beautiful when she was naked.

"I'm scared."

"This is nothing to be scared of."

"I-I want my momma and p-papa."

"If they loved you, they wouldn't have lost you. Weren't you scared wandering around by yourself? Didn't I save you?"

And he couldn't take it anymore. Releasing her hand so she would pump him herself, he concentrated on the feeling, the itch that was climbing higher and higher, until he could feel himself losing it.

Then finally, the peak. He looked one last time at her face covered with tears before he exploded in her hand, absolutely loving the feeling of blacking out.

Natural screamed, moving back off him and stumbling to the floor, covering her face, screaming, "NO, NO, NO!" over and over.

Immediately, Ghetsis moved over to her, putting both arms around her and pulling her into him. He couldn't have her running off. He knew if she had the chance, she would tear open that door and run straight down the hallway until somebody helped her. All he did was hold her tighter. "Shh!" Her crying was getting annoying.

"PLEASE, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! TAKE ME HOME, PLEASE!"

"Calm down, you're okay! I'm not hurting you." But nothing he said seemed to be working, so he pulled her into his lap, biting his lip when her leg rubbed up against him. If she kept struggling like this, he would-

"T-take me home, take me home! I-I want my momma and papa! _Please, please_!"

Saying nothing, he continued holding her in his lap. It would do no good if he hit her, she would still cry. So, doing the only thing he could think of, he sat there, waiting, waiting patiently for her to calm down enough for him to unwrap his arms from her.

"I promise I won't hurt you if you listen to me."

Still shaking, her sobs quieted down to sniffles, Natural cried quietly in his lap, her head in his chest. "I want to go home."

Ghetsis said nothing, he only held her. Even when her sobs turned silent, even when she calmed down in his arms, even when she stopped shaking, he held onto her. He didn't care she was scared. She would get over it. If she continued doing this, he would have no choice but to start tying her to his bed, or maybe even drugging her. This was defiance, she was fighting back, and he hated it.

Digging his nails into her skin and causing her to flinch, he said what he told her before, "Don't tell me no. Don't fight me. If you tell me no, if you try and run away from me, or push me away, I'm going to hurt you. You will listen to me, do you understand?"

Not looking at him, not even moving anymore, Natural nodded.

It was almost too easy for him to get his way, but he liked it. Fighting only made things interesting for so long before Ghetsis got sick of being told no too much. Everything was given to him, everyone bent over backwards for him. Even this kid he snatched away, he was able to make her listen.

He could smile, because it made him feel very good knowing that others listened to him, knowing he was feared, knowing he could get whatever he wanted, no matter what it was.

All he wanted now was her.

When he lifted her off the floor, she did not move, or speak. Natural stayed still when he moved her onto the bed. After he took his pants off and made her rub him again until he was hard, she cried, but she listened. But after he made love to her into the bed until she was bleeding, sobbing and begging for him to let her go, she didn't try to run.

It was silent afterward. Natural didn't even cry anymore. Once Ghetsis pulled the covers over them, wrapped his arms around her tiny body, he kissed her.

It was exactly what he needed, a rush. A rush that let him know he was perfect, he was powerful, that he could have anything he wanted. All he wanted was to be perfect.

* * *

N couldn't remember what happened after Zorua died. He must have fallen asleep, he must have, because the last thing he remembered was holding her close to him, rocking back and forth, even singing to her like she could still hear him. And then he was on his floor, freezing, shivering. All he could think of was that his best friend was gone, that maybe Anthea or Concordia took her away after he fell asleep, and he was alone now.

The room had felt colder than ever. N had been freezing. He didn't want to move after that. Once he was able to get on his feet after staring at the clouds on his floor, he headed straight to bed and lay there all day long, thinking about Zorua, about how she was gone, and would never come back.

But it had been his fault. He was so stupid for it, and this was his punishment for realizing there would never be any leaving, he would not escape, his fantasies of living alone and traveling around would never come true.

It took killing the one thing he loved more than anything to make him realize this, finally, finally. After everything, he could see it so clearly now, and it made him angry. If only he had known before, if he had known how stupid it was to go out, to disobey his father, that he would find out, because N was too stupid to cover his tracks, had he known all of that, Zorua might still be alive. She might be with him now, under the covers, keeping him warm.

The bed was cold, his sheets were cold, but he was too mad at himself to try and make himself warmer. He deserved to be freezing like this. Everything that happened to him from then on, he deserved. It was punishment for killing Zorua, because everything had been his fault.

And that was it.

N had given up completely, he gave himself up to his father, both with his mind and body, he never back talked or defied him. Whatever Ghetsis told him to do, no matter how humiliating, or how much it hurt, N complied.

With N being so compliant, Ghetsis had become more calm. All he had to do was listen, all he had to do was obey and be a good boy, and he wasn't even hit most of the time anymore.

There were still those strange nights he came into N's room and seated himself at the foot of his bed, not moving, not talking, not doing anything. Just sitting. As always, N was too afraid to ask him why he did this, what was the point of it, but he had to figure it was the pills Colress had supplied his father with. They were supposed to make him calmer, and maybe it was that, plus N being compliant, that made Ghetsis more...tolerable.

It could even be considered bearable sometimes. Because if N did as he was told and he satisfied Ghetsis, he would be left alone. Ghetsis would not hit him, or even yell at him.

Because of N's disobedience before, he was not allowed outside of his room anymore, but he wasn't angry or upset about it. He deserved it, in every possible way, he deserved being trapped in his bedroom again, with nothing but his books, the ones that he hadn't ripped up, to keep him company and entertained.

Sometimes, but not often, Ghetsis would take him to his bedroom, and N would be forced to spend the night with him there. He didn't like his father's bedroom, because when Ghetsis left him in there all day until he came back for him that night, N had nothing to do. There were no books to read, no equations to solve, no stories to involve himself in. It was agony sitting around in a quiet room with nothing to do.

But maybe the worst part was that Ghetsis's door remained unlocked, but N knew better than to run. Before, maybe, maybe he would have taken a chance and ran until his feet blistered, until he was far enough away that he was sure his father would not find him. He knew better now. It wasn't even something he considered the times he spent in his father's room, mostly sitting on the bed and waiting, just waiting.

If he grew agitated enough, N would force himself off the bed in favor of wandering around the room, just to give himself something to do, because being still was torture. Ghetsis's room was so plain. There were only the basic necessities there. A bed, a drawer full of clothes, the other door that led to the bathroom, the nightstand with the red lamp on it. There were no decorations, no pictures, no knick-knacks, there was nothing.

One day, N found himself going through his father's things. If Ghetsis found out, he would surely beat N black and blue, but N made sure to put things back exactly as he found them. He wouldn't be doing something so stupid if he weren't so desperate to have _something _to do.

The drawers were pulled back and N found all sorts of clothes, things he'd never even seen his father wear. There were normal clothes, things he'd seen a lot of people wear in Nimbasa, like blue jeans and t-shirts, which was strange. N couldn't picture his father wearing anything other than his golden and purple robes. It was difficult picturing him wearing street clothes like this. N continued digging through them, finding turtle necks, slacks, coats, and even summer clothes like shorts and tank tops. It was strange though. N unfolded a pair of shorts and realized they were far too small for his father's large build. Why would he keep clothes too small for himself? N's only guess were that maybe they had been his clothes when he was younger and he just hadn't gotten around to throwing them away. Maybe he was saving them for N. A lot of N's clothes were hand-me-downs. He hadn't really thought all of his clothes were actually Ghetsis's old ones. It made him a little nauseous thinking that everything he'd ever worn had originally been clothes his father wore when he was a child, that his body wasn't much different than a younger version of Ghetsis.

Folding the shorts back the way they were, N closed the drawers and instead decided to explore the bathroom. Again, he made sure to put everything back in its place so his father wouldn't know he'd been snooping through his things. It wasn't even that N was all that curious, there was just nothing else to do. He normally could have cared less what shampoo his father bathed with, or what kind of towels he dried himself with, but now everything seemed fascinating. N pulled the shower curtain back, looking over the bottles of shampoo and soap. He didn't open them or move them around like he had done with the clothes. If the scents were too strong, he would end up making himself sick and he did not want to spend the remainder in this room fighting nausea until Ghetsis came in.

Closing the curtain back, N turned around and began going through the cabinets. There were towels, wash cloths, pretty much everything he had in his own bathroom. It wasn't like he expected to find secrets hidden amongst everything. What would Ghetsis have to hide anyway? Closing one cabinet and opening a small drawer below it, N felt his stomach drop when he saw what was inside, not expecting it.

Rope, duct tape, straps, something that resembled a collar, and a long knife stared up at him from inside. There were more arrangements of black things he couldn't make out, but he closed the drawer until the contents inside rattled, not wanting to find out what they were. He had recognized the knife as the one Ghetsis used to tear through his clothes once. He hadn't used it since then, and N hoped he never would again. The thought of his father holding a deadly weapon while N was helpless made him horrified that his daddy might accidentally kill him.

When he turned away from the cabinets, N found himself staring at the bathroom mirror. It made him remember he had shattered his own a few days ago, and that it was still broken, not that he cared. Ghetsis hadn't noticed, because he never went into N's bathroom. Nobody noticed. He would get in trouble if his father ever knew, though, because if he asked him why he had punched his mirror in, N would have to tell him the truth, that he was sick of seeing his reflection.

N couldn't lie to his daddy anymore.

And his father never lied, so why should N? He had told him meals wouldn't be brought to him as much anymore since N was gaining weight, and Ghetsis had kept his word. If N was lucky, he would get to eat cereal for dinner, but that was it. For the rest of the day, the only sound he could hear was his stomach growling and begging for food. All he could think of was how hungry he was, how much pain he was in from cramping.

He never complained though, about anything. No matter what happened, no matter how much pain he was in, how miserable he was, how humiliated, N knew it was all necessary punishment. He could never forgive himself for killing Zorua, and this was his responsibility.

Once everything in his father's room was back in place, N had checked twice to make sure things were as they had been, he seated himself on the bed, and waited. The hours ticked by, N grew antsy, he fidgeted, he stretched, he did any kind of movement he could think of until the bedroom door opened.

And N always gave himself over completely. He knew it would happen, that there was no escape, there would never be any running, he would never get to go outside again. He knew now, that this was his life, and he accepted it. So when Ghetsis set to work undressing himself and his son, N told him how much he loved him, how very much he loved his daddy, until Ghetsis finished and they both fell asleep.

* * *

When N awoke next, the first thing that registered with him was that he felt horrible. Not the same horrible feeling he got when with his daddy. As he tried turning over in bed, his stomach churning at the sight of his daddy's sleeping face meeting him, he tried swallowing so he would not vomit. His shifting drove Ghetsis from sleep, but he didn't care. N curled into his middle, the sickening feeling hitting him and giving him chills.

"What's the matter with you?"

Closing the covers around him, N stared at the wrinkles in the sheets before speaking. It was still so hard for him to make eye contact, but luckily, it wasn't something Ghetsis pressed too much. "I don't feel well."

Frowning, Ghetsis reached forward, putting his hand against N's forehead. Instantly, N closed his eyes at the cold feeling, because it felt nice against his burning face. Still, he shivered, even though he was hot, and the nausea would come and go, making him feel that much worse. N hated this feeling so much.

"You're burning up." But N already knew that. Saying nothing else, Ghetsis leaned from the bed before fishing around the floor for his clothes, dressing himself, and heading out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Everything was cold now. N curled himself into a ball before digging himself down under the sheets. It was warmer now, but he was still shivering, freezing. Feeling his stomach churning and drowning with nausea, N couldn't take it anymore. He had to get to the bathroom, get off the bed, get out of the room. He was being suffocated. It was hard coming off the bed without the sheets, because the air chilled his skin, but he rushed to the restroom, instead finding a towel he could wrap himself up in. It may have looked silly, but he didn't care. Now with some warmth around him, N bent over the toilet and vomited.

It made his eyes water, and he coughed to rid himself of this feeling. But he was glad. Everyday, all day long, he felt a feeling like this. The one that never went away, the one that coiled into his stomach and rested there, cramping, hurting, making him have nightmares every night where he couldn't sleep. He was glad he could vomit, at least to make himself feel better.

And he did feel better afterward. While he was still leaning over the toilet in case it happened again, he wrapped the towel around himself tighter, to hide his naked body from himself. It didn't matter, because nobody was in here. He was alone, and he couldn't even count the times he'd been naked like this, especially in front of his father. But he hated himself so much, he hated it, he hated this, he hated this feeling. He hated everything, especially himself.

Tears came to his eyes, but not from throwing up. N couldn't help the times he spent like this, thinking of everything that had happened to him. This was a horrible life, this wasn't normal. Not normal. Nobody should have to live the way he was, but he had already told himself a million times before that this was the way things were going to be. Maybe even for the rest of his life, but that was the price he had to pay.

Still, N hated the thought of living here. Every day, every minute, every second agonized him until he wanted to-he couldn't even think. He thought it would be so easy, just to give up, just to say he could do it, he could live this way, he could please his father whenever he wanted.

But he couldn't do it anymore.

He couldn't sleep, he wasn't allowed to eat, which only made his stomach hurt that much more than it already did, he couldn't function normally anymore. The only thing he knew to do anymore was obey, but it was killing him.

Whenever Ghetsis said come, he'd come. When he'd order him to speak, N spoke. Whenever he'd give any order whatsoever, N obeyed, or else he was hit for it. N hadn't been hit in a long time, because he was a good person for his daddy.

N had thought there were good people in this castle. All he had were good memories of Concordia and Anthea taking care of him when he was little. Some of those memories were clouded with things his daddy had done to him, but he remembered the girls the most. They were always nice, even though they didn't smile much. They brought him food, they taught him how to read, they taught him how to do math, which he fell in love with. It always fascinated him, and both of them always urged him to push himself with it, to challenge himself so he could grow into an intelligent adult.

But what was the point of all of that if this was his life now? Why would they give him hope, hope that he could leave one day, live on his own, maybe travel around until he figured out what he wanted to do? Why would they tell him stories about the outside, about how he would leave one day, if it all meant absolutely nothing?

He loved them both. They were like his sisters, they were his family, along with his daddy. When he saw their faces when they walked in to bring him his meal for the night, he couldn't help but feel loathing toward them now. The girls who took care of him during childhood showed no more love or care for him than the floor did. They were just doing their job. That's all they had ever done his entire life. Just their job. It wasn't love, or care, or even motherly. Ghetsis ordered them, and they obeyed.

And no matter what happened to him, N knew he would always end up right back here, back in Ghetsis's room, the feeling of fear always, always burrowed down into his stomach as he waited for his father to return. Because the inevitable knowledge that he would be raped over and over was enough to drive him insane. He knew it would happen, and he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

The only option was to give up, but he couldn't even do that now. Maybe it was just human instinct, he didn't know.

N cried. His stomach churned and he vomited into the toilet once more, his eyes watering, but he cried. Why was he even here? What was the point of all of this? Colress had said he was giving Ghetsis pills to make him better, but they weren't working. This still happened, and it would always happen. N was going to die here, with his daddy, if he didn't go first. Then, N didn't know what anymore.

He should have run. All those times before, he felt so incredibly stupid for it. He should have run far away, ignored everyone in this place, ignored his fear, and kept running until his feet bled. The opportunities were handed to him, but N was too stupid to take them.

All he could think of now was that this was it. When he flushed the toilet, feeling a little better, and returned to bed to curl up into the sheets and fall asleep, this was it. It was all over for him. He would wait for his daddy to return, and then it would just be the same thing over and over.

When sleep took over, N dreamt of Zorua. He missed her so much, but he could feel a little better knowing she wasn't suffering with him anymore. She was free.

Then the door squeaked open, jarring N out of sleep. He didn't raise his head, because he didn't have to. He knew it was Ghetsis. Curling under the sheets, N tried to stay warm when his father leaned over the bed, feeling his forehead again, and N could hear him swear under his breath.

Did daddy love him? N wanted to think he did. He liked thinking he did.

"Take this." N was forced to sit up when Ghetsis handed him a glass of water and some pills. "Colress said they'd make you feel better."

Yes, daddy had to love him. He had to. Why would he care otherwise?

N swallowed the pills as fast as he could without choking, so he could get back under the covers. His entire body was hot, but it was still freezing in the room, especially since he didn't have any clothes on. He was too tired to put them on earlier. With the medicine out of the way, N wrapped the covers back around himself, curling into a ball. The nausea was gone for the most part, but it would return in small waves, making him curl into himself to try and stop the horrible feeling.

Ghetsis left the room again.

N didn't know how long he'd been gone, because he fell asleep. He wanted to dream of Zorua some more, because it made him smile to himself knowing she was happy somewhere, knowing she was out of this awful place.

* * *

**More N's mommy angst and shit next chapter. Oh look, this fic has two more chapters left. WE'RE ALMOST THROUGH CAN YOU BELIEVE IT. **


	12. Chapter 12

It had only taken a few months before Natural stopped crying. Still, that was too long for Ghetsis's tastes. At least when he entered the room, she gave herself to him instead of fighting back. Threats could only last so long, but they worked. It was a simple equation. He could tell her all day long he would kill her if she so much as back talked, cried, or fought him off, but she learned to listen. Maybe it was because she was still fairly young, to quake so easily when he gave empty threats, but it satisfied him.

Now when he came to her, she would shut down completely. Not that it mattered to him. He was only interested in her body, and as long as she didn't start that annoying crying, he could live with this.

There was no love, there was never any love. And Ghetsis still couldn't figure out why he was doing this. Sure, the rush was nice, the feeling of knowing this was wrong ate at him like a disease, but he loved the feeling, like he was high on a drug. When he would kiss her, he felt, for once in his life, like nothing was wrong. His parents weren't exactly loving toward him. He never really socialized with them. All he knew was that if he yelled enough, his parents would give him the money to do whatever he wanted with. All he knew were material things, things he could own, because he was rich and had the power to have whatever he wanted.

Even if it meant owning another person, this is what he knew. But he was gentle with her at least the times she was good. Since she was young, he knew it would take awhile for her body to get used to him, but that was okay. All he had was time now. The castle was completely under his order, he was now god in this place, and he made damn sure if anyone breathed a word about what he was doing, he'd do something worse than just kill them.

Sometimes he could get her to talk to him. It wasn't much of a conversation, but he enjoyed hearing how she pronounced words in that odd accent. When he would have her pinned down to the bed, kissing her and running his fingers through her hair, he would sometimes just talk. Nonsensical talking, white noise, but she would answer. Sometimes that's all they would do. There was no sex, no groping, sometimes not even kissing, simply talking.

One morning Ghetsis was jerked from sleep when he heard Natural moaning in the restroom. She didn't dare leave his side at night, but even if she did, he made sure to lock her in with him, so he immediately rose from bed to find her bent over the toilet, vomiting. Not asking right away what was wrong, he bent beside her, pulling her long hair behind her to get it out of her face as she continued retching. From where he stood, he could smell the lavender she always bathed with, and see the tears falling down her face as she held her stomach, moaning from the pain. Then finally, she leaned away, her entire body pale and shaking.

The first thing Ghetsis did was feel of her forehead, a little surprised to find she didn't have a fever. It felt a little dumb to ask her what was the matter, when it was obvious, but the only thing he could think of was getting Colress to examine her right away. Without speaking, he lifted her in his arms, making his way out of his room and down the hallway. There were days like this too, days where neither of them would speak. Everything was movement, body language, touching and feeling. Sometimes words were useless.

Once Natural was in Colress's arms, Ghetsis left to tend to business for awhile. He knew she was safe there, or at least, he knew Colress wouldn't cross him, especially since he let him move all his junk into the castle and even gave him his own room. He let Zinzolin move too. It was a castle after all, and Ghetsis had room to spare.

Only an hour had passed before Ghetsis found Colress walking toward him, Natural still curled in his arms. She always looked so small, no matter how he viewed her. Once he spotted them, Ghetsis moved instantly, snatching Natural back, his stomach churning a little when he saw the look on Colress's face. He didn't even have to ask what was wrong.

"She's pregnant."

At first he wanted to laugh, at first it didn't even register with him what exactly it meant, but then Ghetsis felt like a weight emptied into his stomach, causing him to stagger a bit. Yes, it had occurred to him before. He knew it was a possibility, he figured if he was careful enough, this wouldn't happen. But, he had fucked up. The more he pressed on it, the more he could feel Natural shaking in his arms. She was terrified, maybe more so than she was the night he brought her here. She didn't speak, but he could feel every single little tremor her tiny body made.

Then Colress spoke. "What are you going to do? What do you _want _to do?"

"I don't know." Staring at the floor, Ghetsis could only stand there and ponder. What would he gain from being a father? The thought of children running around was never even a thought he teased. It was something he never even considered. Laughable, yes, but now he had hit a wall. Now he had to face reality that he had fucked up, in more than just a few ways. Everything about what he had done was wrong, he knew that, but he didn't even care about that. It was...normal to him. Natural being here and now carrying his child was normal.

"Ghetsis." Colress was now at his side, having grabbed onto his arm to get his attention. Natural's smalls sobs were audible. "I think this might be good for you. It might be good for her too."

Now he wanted to laugh, but it came out choked and strained. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"I think if you let her have this baby, she'll warm up to being here more. If she has a responsibility, if she has to take care of something you both created, maybe it will be better for the both of you. Maybe it will relieve the stress of other things. That's just my personal opinion, though."

Ghetsis didn't know what to say. His attention focused back on the floor, he stood there for what felt like hours, thinking, wondering how in the world having a baby would change things. How it could make things better. Maybe Colress was right, though. If Natural had the weight of caring for a baby on her shoulder, it could make things a little better. Maybe. Everything was a maybe now, and it frustrated him not knowing exactly what to do.

When he felt her head lean onto his shoulder, her tears soaking through his shirt, Ghetsis nodded to Colress. "Alright. We'll just see what happens."

* * *

Time seemed to slow down for awhile after that. Things even felt normal again, or as normal as they had been, at least to Ghetsis. The only thing that was different was Natural would wake up some mornings, sick to her stomach, and stay in the restroom vomiting. It seemed to be getting to her, though.

Ghetsis noticed when she would come out, she would always be staring at the floor, the bed sheets, even the wall, but anything other than him. When he would call her name, she would respond by moving her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. Normally, he'd let it slide, he wouldn't even care, but there was something about it that began to annoy him the more she did it. "Look at me." Then when she'd lift her head, he could still see her eyes avoiding looking directly into his. When he'd grab onto her face and force her to look up at him, her eyes instantly began to fill with tears. The crying angered him, but he was trying very hard to be calm and patient with her. She was just an object after all, just another thing he owned. "Why are you crying?"

He released her face, her eyes falling from him and focusing on the floor, the tears falling. "I-I want to go home."

"I've already told you hundreds of times no."

"...Why?" Her pale hands were wringing the edge of the dress she wore. Back and forth, squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Because that's what I want."

Then she was silent, standing at the foot of his bed, still staring at the floor, sniffling, but her tears had stopped. Back and forth, she twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands, wrinkling it. The times she tried to resist him irritated him, but he found that putting his foot down was the best way to deal with her, to let her know she was not in control, that he was. She quaked so easily, but it satisfied him seeing her so obedient.

"Do you even realize what's happening?" Moving from his bed, he threw his feet over the edge, reaching to grab her arm and pull her closer to him. She was so, so tiny, he could wrap his fingers completely around her arm. Had she gotten thinner? He didn't remember her seeming so...frail before. She had always been a little on the short side and thin, but looking at her closer now, he could see her ribs through the dress, her bones jutting from her elbows and wrists. Even when he made love to her, gotten her completely naked, he only just now noticed, now that he was touching her and not just fucking her. "Are you eating?"

The maids were responsible for bringing her food when he was away, they were the ones who were supposed to make sure she was well fed and taken care of. Were they slacking on the job?

Natural shook her head, flinching when he ran his hands up her arms, running his fingers over her hands, wrists, and elbows to feel her bones. "I can't."

"You can't eat? Why not?" This wasn't worrying him, it was making him angry. Someone, maybe not her, wasn't following orders.

"I feel sick all the time. When I smell food, it makes me too nauseous to eat it."

He figured that was from the pregnancy, but shouldn't she have cravings? If she was feeding for two, she should've been eating more, not less. "You do realize you have a baby inside you, don't you?" Now he wished she was a little older, so that he wouldn't have to explain this to her. It was more out of laziness than anything, not that he cared. Maybe he liked that about her too, being too ignorant to realize what an adult situation she was in. "If you don't eat, that's not good for it. It's not good for you either."

She nodded like she understood. "But I can't. I'm not hungry anymore, ever."

Now he was a little rattled, unsettled by what she was telling him. Colress needed to examine her again, but the first priority was getting food into her. "Natural, do you understand what's happening right now?"

Silence from her end.

"You're going to be a mother. Do you realize that?"

She always looked so dissociated, never ever making eye contact with him, always looking at the floor, always saying as little as possible. "Yes."

"I'm going to bring you food. I want you to eat. If you can't, then I'm not against shoving it down your throat." Maybe she just needed a little push.

It surprised him that she showed no reaction to his threat. Perhaps he threw them around a little too much and she was getting used to them. He'd just have to show her they weren't always going to be empty, and that he meant what he said this time.

* * *

As the months rolled away one after another, it became more and more apparent that Natural was pregnant. But it seemed the more her stomach expanded, the worse she herself got. Ghetsis never was able to get her to eat, and when Colress was called to the scene, he suggested a feeding tube. Most of her days, Natural was laid up in bed, pale and sickly. When Ghetsis would come to her side, not speaking, never speaking, just touching her in different ways, whether it was stroking her face, arms, or rubbing her belly, she would start to cry.

But the way she looked, so malnourished and unwell, he was bitter. If she died-he didn't even want to think about it. He didn't love her. To him, love did not exist. There was never any love when he was a child, he was never loved by his parents, so he had no love to give in return to anyone, especially not some little girl he snatched from an amusement park.

But he didn't want to think about what things would be like without her here. In a way, she made things better. He didn't get mad as much, or frustrated. With her as his scapegoat, all his bitterness and anger went into her when he fucked her. She was just another thing, something new, something he could use to take his mind off things, like the way he hated people, hated the world. She made it better.

When the 9th month came, Ghetsis was prepared. One of his maids had brought two little girls with her to help take care of the baby. Anthea and Concordia, he'd heard their names called. They were strange little girls, never smiling, never showing much emotion, but obedient to his wishes. They stayed by Natural's side on her worst days when she was vomiting uncontrollably, when she was too weak to even lift her arms.

He'd cornered Colress many times, pushed him up against a wall and towered over him, either choking him or banging his head against the wall until his glasses fell off, demanding him to fucking _do something_, why was he letting Natural get so bad like this? Couldn't he see she was dying?

And it tore at him, imagining things back to the way they were, admitting to himself that yes, she was dying. For some reason, the little girl he snatched away and who made things so much better for him, stopped eating until it was forced into her through a tube, so that she could live and the baby would live. Or maybe the baby would die too. He didn't really care about the baby. It was just an ugly mound of flesh inside of her, feeding off of her until there was nothing left.

Colress assured him he was trying everything, but she was not reacting to medicine at all. He'd tried different everything, anything he could think, but her body refused to accept whatever he gave her. The more bad news he got, the angrier Ghetsis became. He would seclude himself in an unused room, not wanting to hear anymore of it, not wanting to see Natural only get worse and worse. Knowing she would be dead any day only made him angry at the world.

When he was alone, he would throw things, like he had done before when he was younger. Ever since Natural was there, he hadn't gotten so mad in a long time, he hadn't thrown chairs against the walls, busted windows, mirrors, anything. But seeing Colress at a loss for what to do, the maids doing everything to make Natural as comfortable as possible, only to see her condition worsen, it was too much for him.

He wasn't in the room when she had the baby. He was far away, knowing she was dead now, knowing it, without even having to be told. Locked in a room by himself, he tried to distract himself with books, with Math, formulas, books about pokemon, but it didn't help. Everything made him angry, realizing Natural was gone made him hate the world even more. He wanted to see it burn, to watch everyone suffer, because pain never felt this horrible. Pain in his stomach, aching his muscles, his head pounding, the realization that he was alone.

Then a knock at the door. Slowly, he rose from his spot on the floor, not sure whether he wanted to open it or not. Because opening it would only mean more bad news. More misery. He forced himself to walk across the room, across books he'd thrown and torn out pages of, broken chairs, a busted lamp, then the door handle, which he unlocked, opening to see Colress and the two girls, Anthea and Concordia, standing in his doorway.

The look Colress gave him was enough. It was strange how much he'd grown the past year. They still were anything but friends, but Ghetsis found himself relying on him a little more than he had in the past. "I'm sorry."

Ghetsis shook his head. "I don't fucking want to hear it." He was angry. Fake sympathy, fake everything. No more anything anymore. He felt empty.

"Do you at least want to meet your son?"

Colress moved out of the way to reveal Anthea holding a small bundle in her arms. It cooed and gurgled, looking up at him with big blue eyes. Instantly he recoiled, like they were presenting some sort of abomination to him and not his baby wrapped in a green blanket. He didn't know what to think of it, of him, his son. It's what killed Natural. If not, then his son only made her condition worse. If she hadn't been pregnant with him, she might have lived. Ifs were all he could think of. Ifs killed her, straight answers and consequences didn't matter anymore.

"Get him away from me. I don't want to look at that thing right now." And he slammed the door in their faces, hearing the baby start to cry on the other end from the loud noise.

* * *

Time felt like it didn't exist after that. For awhile, Ghetsis was holed up in the empty room, trying to distract himself with books, trying to get his mind off everything. When maids needed him, when business needed taken care of, he did like he always did. Maybe this was a feeling of normality. Having someone here only made things better for awhile, but with Natural gone, he was back to his old self. Angry at everyone, hating the world, and bitter.

Sometimes he would hear people talk about his little boy. He wasn't even a baby anymore, but Ghetsis hardly saw him. When he did, all he could see was a head full of thick hair, just like his mommy's, and a smile on his face. What did a toddler have to be happy about. He didn't even give him a name. No one could consult him long enough to ask him for one, so people branded him with the nickname N, from Natural. Ghetsis wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore, he wanted to wipe her memory away from his mind completely, he didn't want to think that the little boy who killed her was crawling and learning to walk around with that stupid smile on his face.

When things got really bad for him, he found himself heading to Colress's office and sitting down. He learned talking sometimes helped, and Colress always did the best he could giving advice, even if it was something Ghetsis didn't want to hear.

"Maybe distancing yourself from your son isn't the best choice right now. What do you think of getting more involved with him? He needs a father, or at least someone. I'm no child psychologist, so I'm not sure how healthy it is for him to be mothered by so many different maids like this. He needs more structure."

Ghetsis shook his head, sipping some wine he'd been offered. He never was much of a drinker. It didn't numb him like he would've preferred. "I don't know."

Then Colress sighed, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "You always come to me like this for advice, but what's the point if you never act on anything? If you keep doing what you are doing now, you're going to wind up in a rut, and it's only going to get worse and worse. If you want things to get better, I suggest spending time with your son. I've told you this a thousand times, but he did not kill her. She was sick a long time before she had him, maybe even before you brought her here. Nothing would have saved her."

He gripped the glass in his hands, drinking more wine, coughing when it burned.

"N is all you have left. Maybe if you spent time with him, you'll come to realize he can make things better for you, too. He might make you healthy again."

Still, Ghetsis said nothing, still sipping at his wine, feeling like he had to drown himself in it now.

"Give yourself a goal with him. If you busy yourself with him, you might realize he can make things better."

With Colress's words hanging over him like a storming cloud, Ghetsis left the room. His first intention was to retreat back to what he'd made into his study, just a small office with a desk and books, but he stopped himself when he spotted N seated in the hallway playing with toys. He was still so little, still a toddler, but from where he stood, Ghetsis could clearly see him smiling, having the time of his life playing with stuffed pokemon toys.

Anger, that's all Ghetsis could think of, but he swallowed it down, approaching his son. This was the first time he was really looking at him since he was born. All he'd seen were glances from when the maids carried him around. Every time they would pass, the maids would point at him and tell N that was his daddy, so he knew who he was at least.

When he walked next to him, N leaned his head back, smiling up at him. He didn't speak, but Ghetsis didn't know if he could even talk yet. He was still wearing diapers. All Ghetsis saw when he looked at that face were those big blue eyes and faint freckles that were only noticeable up close, framed by that thick hair that reached his shoulders.

Maybe Colress was right. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't an expert on everything, but at least he was trying to help. And Ghetsis knew he was unhealthy right now. It felt like he would never feel like he did before ever again. It wasn't...happiness, but it was coping with the way he was.

When N smiled up at him, he could feel the hatred for him wash away. The bitterness was still there, because he would never get over Natural dying and leaving him like this, but he didn't feel loathing toward the baby anymore. He was theirs after all, he was his son, his only son.

Bending down, Ghetsis was surprised when N reached his arms out for him to pick him up, which he did, lifting him high from the floor and holding him for the first time. N's tiny arms wrapped around his neck, his face burying into his shoulder, and Ghetsis felt like he broke.

There was no sadness, no anger, no happiness. Never happiness. No love. But he could cope. Holding his son made him realize he was all he had. He needed him. He needed him, because Ghetsis knew he was sick, nothing would make him better, but maybe N could. Maybe being a dad would distract his mind from realizing what a shithole the world was.

There were always maybes, never anything set in stone. Ghetsis's whole world was full of maybes. It bothered him, it made him sick not knowing the answers to everything.

But for now, he stood there, holding his son and staring at the floor, N having fallen asleep at some point in his arms.

* * *

Everything was the way it had always been. Feeling was trivial, it was obsolete. N lay in his father's bed on his back, his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to watch when Ghetsis went into him over and over. He felt around blindly with his hands, trying to cling to something, just to have something to grab. His father's hands were under his thighs, propping him at an angle so he could reach him.

It didn't hurt anymore. But, N didn't think he could feel anything. His entire body felt numb, no matter what was happening. Whether he was being fucked or sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for his daddy, he couldn't feel anymore. The physical feelings were there. When his father went into him just right, he could feel that wonderful feeling surface, the one that made him moan, especially when his father hit the spot over and over. It made him hard, it made him reach for the bed sheets and squeeze, because it felt so wonderful. Over and over, over and over, again, again.

Everything felt wonderful, just for a second. When he orgasmed, the haze was absolute bliss, a feeling he hoped he never got used to, a feeling that outweighed everything, even when his father came into him, and when he pulled out, there was nothing like it. Like always, when Ghetsis was through, he leaned over to kiss N, never speaking, before dressing himself and leaving.

N lay there, given a choice of either letting sleep take over, or getting up and showering. It never helped. The only thing it did was clean the sweat from him, make his hair shiny, but he never felt clean.

N rose, not wanting to lie down anymore, especially in his own sweat and cum. When he stood, he felt oddly weak. It was like standing was a chore, an obstacle. He wasn't in pain, at least not physically, but he felt weighed down by something. Once he was finally on his feet, it felt like it took forever for him to reach the bathroom. Movement was slow, but there was no pain. There wasn't anything. It felt like he couldn't stand, he felt weighed down so much, so he filled the tub with water he could sit in.

Dragging the soap over his skin, the smell was making him a little nauseous, but it wasn't as strong as the stuff his father used to make him bathe in. This smelled like fruit, not lavender. He had to lean back, feeling very tired, like he could fall asleep in the water, but it felt physically exhausting.

He felt spent. Used up, completely empty. Cleaning himself hurt, because he shouldn't have to clean himself after being raped. He shouldn't have to cater to his father's needs, he shouldn't have to live this way. Because it was all pointless, every bit of it.

Tears came, then fell, cold against his face and contrasting the steam rising from the water. It hurt, it hurt so much. He loved his daddy, he did, he really did, but he hated having to do this. He hated being trapped onto that bed almost everyday, he hated being kissed, hugged, he hated it when they made love. Because not once had N ever consented. He never wanted this, not ever. Ghetsis took whatever he wanted, because he could.

Holding his hands to his face, N sobbed into them, bunching his knees up to his chest. Why. Why, why did this have to happen to him? What did he ever do in his life that was so bad that his daddy felt it necessary to hurt him like this over and over, to make him feel like utter shit when he didn't do something right, to hit him when he cried, bite him when he screamed?

Didn't Ghetsis see how hard he was trying? It was never even considered for him to like it. How could he ever like this. It was too horrible for him to cope with, to try to convince himself it was okay, it was normal. Nothing was normal. Daddy was horrible, he-

It was pointless, though. N knew that. This was only something that happened everyday. He hadn't seen his room in a long time, because he was locked in Ghetsis's room all the time now. Everyday, he cried like this, he thought about what his life consisted of now, how pointless it was even to wake up anymore.

But he loved his daddy, didn't he? Why should he have to love him, when he didn't do the same in return? Daddy locked him in his room when he was little, he fed him the lies about being king, about being a hero, just to fuck with him, just to let him know he had no control, and that his life was a waste from the start. Then daddy gave him Zorua, the only thing N ever really loved, the thing that gave him comfort so many nights after daddy hurt him, but he killed her. And every time N tried to take a chance at being happy, it was taken, either physically or by influence.

So what was the point? N asked himself the same thing everyday. His father would rape him, leave, and N would be left to himself for the rest of the day, until Ghetsis came for him again that night. It had gotten too hard to move anymore, to eat, to care.

If all N's life was left of was being hurt again and again by his father, if he was nothing more than a tool and not a person, what was left? He still had dreams, even though they were smashed to bits now. He still fantasized about leaving, living on his own, being safe for once.

Because he wasn't safe. He was a prisoner, nothing more than a sex slave for a sick person. What sort of existence was that?

He remembered the knife in the drawer, the rope, the straps. Sometimes his father tied him to the bed. Not often, because N didn't run anymore. But when vanilla got too boring, Ghetsis found ways to make it more interesting.

Rising out of the water, he reached over, pulling back the drawer, not surprised when he found the knife still there, untouched from the last time his father used it on him, when he cut his clothes off him. It was grabbed, then the drawer was shut back.

Cold. The air felt freezing, like the blade. N stepped back in the warm water, running his fingers down the smooth edge of the knife.

He wanted to die. He wanted everything to end, to please...just end. Because he couldn't take it anymore. If living meant going through this pain over and over, he didn't know how much more he could take. If Ghetsis didn't accidentally kill him from choking him so much first, N would do it himself.

Because there was no point anymore. And this would finally, finally end the pain. He dragged the blade gently over his wrists, not hard enough to cut yet. Dying scared him a little, but he hoped it would be better than this, anything than this. He just didn't want to be afraid anymore, or hurt. Why did that make him selfish?

He was crying now, because there had been good times. Zorua was a good memory, playing with toys was a good memory, learning Math, riding the ferris wheel with Black and White. He wanted more of that, and to give it all up now, because there was no escape anymore, there was no more future for him.

N had nothing left. He cried. And cried. Rocking in the water, he stared at the knife, scared, so scared for what would happen, but he wanted to die so much at the same time. There was no point, no life, no future, no feeling.

As he dug the knife into his wrist and slid it across, he was surprised by how painless it was. He watched, transfixed at the sight of his blood pooling down his own arm, into the water. So much blood, so much red, he was already sick from the sight, from the smell. But he wasn't dead yet. Again, he slid the knife against him, this time wincing from the strong sting, and more blood. And then he began to feel light-headed. He cried, and cried until he couldn't see, still raking the knife across his wrist, biting his lip from the pain that was too much to bear now. It stung so much, it was the end, and he could breathe now. He was so tired.

It was over. He saw black not long after, just wanting to feel safe now. That's all he ever wanted.

* * *

Greenery. Colors from flowers. Trees, and the smells. It was nice to feel this way, to be able to feel again. But, then-

"I love you."

No sights, no more smells, no more feeling. Nothing anymore.

"I love you."

It was his own voice, he realized. Over and over, who was it for? Zorua, maybe Black and White, maybe Anthea and Concordia, maybe for the mother he never met.

Maybe for daddy?

"Daddy...I love you."

It was dark, dreary. N was numb, stiff. His arms were pulled behind his head, together, held by rope. He couldn't move.

"Daddy..."

He felt so weak, even opening his eyes was difficult. It was dark. Maybe it had all been a dream, maybe this was a dream. N was sorry, he was so sorry. He wanted to live, but he wanted to be safe too. He wanted daddy's love.

Daddy was seated at the foot of the bed, not looking at him. N had a horrible sensation wash over him, the feeling that...that he wasn't dead. Not yet. Alive, he was still alive. He hadn't been able to do it. When he tried to move, his wrists stung horribly, making him wince. There was a strange feeling in his body, like he'd been drugged. And maybe he had. Something tight was wrapped around his left wrist under the rope, the one he'd cut. Bandages?

N began to cry, softly at first, then he looked up at the ceiling, trying to breathe when he spoke, even though it hurt so much. "Daddy...why are you doing this to me?"

And he was surprised when Ghetsis spoke right away, his voice shaking a little, something he wasn't used to. He didn't even sound like himself. "Because I need you."

The tears were thick, but he didn't even feel them. He didn't stutter when he responded. "Why, daddy? I don't want this. I'm...so tired of this. I can't take it anymore. Please, let me go."

Then Ghetsis moved, the bed shifting when he leaned over, placing his arms on both sides of him, and N felt suffocated. When he looked up at his father's face, he could see through his cloudy eyes the look his father was giving him. It was...almost sad, longing and hungry. Desperate.

"You're so fucking selfish, N. I-I honestly never thought you'd do something like this to me. How could you do this? Do you have any idea what I went through when I found you unconscious in a tub of bloody water? No, of course you didn't, of course you don't. How could you?" As he spoke, he reached over to the headboard where N's wrists were bound, pulling at the rope so that it rubbed against N's sore wrist, causing him to wince. Ghetsis was angry.

It was cold, and N knew he was naked. Numb and bare. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. "Because I can't live this way anymore. I'm sick of this. I don't want to be here. I-I just want to be safe."

"Aren't I giving you everything already?" Then he moved again, completely over N this time. N flinched, shaking when his father touched him, dragging his nails across his bare flesh. Never was there a feeling so vulnerable, helpless. It made him sick to his stomach.

"No, no...please, daddy, please. If you won't let me go, then kill me. Please." Sobs were choked out, and N slowly grew aware of the situation he was in. Every little movement hurt his wrist where he'd cut, every little thing hurt now. It hurt worse than it ever had before, especially with his father over him, straddling him. It made him feel like he couldn't breathe, realizing how small he was, how out of control he was, how nothing would ever be the same.

"I can't believe you. You think life is just so fucking miserable, don't you? You think everything is so bad, don't you?" His hands slid up N's chest, resting at his already bruised neck from where he'd been strangled so many times. He gently massaged his throat, something N didn't expect. But then, daddy was always unpredictable. "You already know I'm not going to kill you."

Trying to ignore his father's hands on him, N looked up again. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me go? Daddy, don't you love me?"

"Love doesn't exist. People in this world are so fucking stupid. Something like love, something they think makes the world go round, doesn't even exist. They think they know everything, they think the world turns just for them, that if they wish for something hard enough, they'll get it. And it's all so pointless. People don't even realize what a waste life is. Life for everyone ends up being the same. Everybody always ends up rotting in the ground. I'm the same too." His fingers were wrapped around N's throat, not squeezing just yet. "You were better when you were younger, when you were stupid. Like your mother, children don't know how the world works, they don't realize what a fucking horrible place it is just yet. They don't realize one day they're going to work their life away, just to die, just to have maggots crawling into their skulls when they're buried in the ground. They're so naive to everything, but I envy that. You think this is bad? I haven't even showed you bad."

Then, he squeezed, harder, harder than it felt like he'd ever done before. N felt like his windpipe would crush under his father's hands, but he welcomed it. If he died now, it was a blessing. He wanted daddy to kill him. Harder and harder, until N felt light-headed again. He didn't move, because he couldn't, he just accepted it. But then Ghetsis stopped, releasing his hands and N screamed because h-he wanted to die! "_Why?! Why are you doing this?! Please, please, just kill me_!" A slap across his face, hard enough that his head lolled to the side, and N lay there, breathing, living, crying because he was still alive, because he wanted to die so much.

"You made things better." Now Ghetsis's hands were in his hair, twirling strands around his finger. N recoiled at the feeling. "Like she did, things felt fine for awhile. I didn't hate the world as much, because I knew if there were innocent children like you, maybe it wasn't such a bad place after all. At least while life lasts, at least before everyone dies, people like you make it better." He yanked at his hair, causing N to wince. "You look like your mom. Maybe that's why. It took a long time for me to get over after she died having you, because then you were here, you were all that was left, and you were mine, something I created." Leaning over, N moved his head out of reflex when Ghetsis placed his lips against his head. N was shaking, trying to control his sobbing, but failing. Ghetsis's lips were cold against his skin."You still make things better. You're still mine, and I'm not going to kill you. I'm not going to let you kill yourself either. I'll take everything out of this room you think you can use on yourself, I'll keep you tied to the bed if I have to. I'll break you, I'll cut you, I'll make it so you can't leave, so that you can't hurt yourself. I'll make it so you won't ever be able to run away from me again."

N sobbed, choking as he struggled to breathe and get his words out. "B-but-daddy..." It hurt, it hurt so much. "I'm your son."

Moving down from his head, Ghetsis placed small kisses to his face, his cheeks, his mouth, his hands running over the ropes that bound him, massaging the bandages over his wrist. "I know. That doesn't excuse what you did. Now I can't trust you anymore, not even to stay in this room and be a good boy for me."

Shaking, all N could see were his tears, all he could feel were Ghetsis's hands on him, his lips pressing against random parts of his face. "I-I don't want this. I'm so tired of this."

"But you make things better. I need you."

It was pointless, N knew that, to try and talk to him like this. Words were so useless, only noise. Ghetsis wasn't listening, he never would. "Daddy..." Slowly, N felt his father's hands travel to his thighs, lifting him, and N knew what was coming, but he still screamed when daddy pushed into him. There was never any preparation, never any warning, never consenting. Ghetsis just took and took whatever and whenever he wanted, because all he had ever known were material things. "DADDY PLEASE! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! I'M SORRY, PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" Everything was against him. Without his consent, while he screamed and cried, choking on his own sobs, N lay there, trapped, like he always had, while his daddy raped him over and over. This time, nothing felt good. This time, he tried to fight. Desperate when Ghetsis moved out of him, N lifted a leg and kicked him, screaming at him, kicking with every ounce of energy he had left, trying to ignore the strange groggy sensation he felt, and the way his wrists chafed against the rope. "STOP! STOP! PLEASE, HELP! SOMEONE, HELP ME!" He screamed and screamed, kicking at his father, ignoring the look of rage on his face, struggling when his father grabbed hold of his legs to stop him. "NO! NO, NO, NO! DADDY, STOP, STOP! I-I HATE YOU, STOP!" Then, Ghetsis's hands released his legs, moving for his throat instead. He gripped him hard again, shaking him back and forth until N was too light-headed to fight him off. When Ghetsis released him, N cried, but he didn't move anymore.

"Nobody is coming for you. Do you honestly think they care about you? They listen to me and only me, they know better, a lot more than you do. They know how to follow orders obediently. I'm disappointed in you."

"Daddy, please, I-" Everything hurt. All N could feel anymore was pain. "Why do things have to be this way? I'm scared, I'm so scared, I don't want this."

"There's no reason to be afraid, N. This isn't anything scary. Didn't I always tell you if you just listened to me, I wouldn't hurt you?"

"But you do." Still, more tears, more pain. N was so tired. Why wouldn't his daddy just kill him?

Ghetsis leaned away from him, not saying anything for a long time. Then finally, "I only do it because you're bad." That had always been his excuse, ever since N was little. Always, because he was bad, always because N never listened, because he never obeyed. Being hit meant he was bad.

"I just..." N sobbed. He was so tired, all he wanted was sleep. "Please. Daddy, I'm pleading with you. Let me go. If love doesn't exist, then what kind of existence is this, for me and you? Let me go, please. I'll leave and I won't ever bother you again."

Instead of responding, Ghetsis rose from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom before reappearing, something clutched in his hands. N felt like his entire weight sank into the mattress, realizing with horror why his father had drugged him. "I'm not letting you leave me, N. Haven't you been fucking listening to me? You're staying right here. You're going to stay with me forever. I won't let you leave, and I won't let you kill yourself. I have to make sure you won't be able to run away." He ended up at the foot of the bed, taking one hand and gently dragging his fingers along N's feet and ankles. In his opposite hand, he held the knife N had slit his wrist with. When N tried to move out of reflex, Ghetsis tightened his grip, digging his nails into N's flesh and saying, "No. If you kick me again, I'll make it worse than I intend to. I'm not against anything, N. If this doesn't work, then I'll just have to break your legs next time." Lifting N's leg again, he angled the knife before digging it into the back of his son's ankle.

N's body was on fire as he screamed. He recoiled backward, crying, choking, the breath knocked from him when his father dropped his foot, lifting the other one and repeating the process. Dull pain throbbed from his wrist, his body, and he couldn't move anymore, his feet hurting too much.

"This is just a warning."

N sobbed, trying to breathe, trying to block out the horror when Ghetsis moved on top of him, kissing him, muffling the cries his son made.

"I'll have Colress come in to tend to them, but if you run, if you so much as think of leaving this room, of leaving me, I'll break your god damn legs next time until you won't ever be able to walk again, do you understand me?"

N was shaking, sobbing, his wrists burning, his body sore, his ankles on fire. But he spoke. He didn't move anymore. "Y-y-yes, daddy." The knife was dropped, clanging to the floor. Ghetsis moved on top of him, smothering him with his body, kissing him again.

N cried when his father finished what he'd started earlier, his body being too shot to try fighting him off, to try saving himself, even though it was hopeless from the start. There was never any saving himself, there was never anyone coming to help him, N knew there was no way out. The pain under him was nothing new, the invading feeling was common, almost second nature. The feeling of being trapped, the horrible sickening feeling that rested in his stomach, his horror, all his fear, all his worries, it was gone.

When his daddy finished, N closed his eyes, wishing for sleep, for at least a small ounce of release. The last thing he remembered feeling were his father's lips against his own before N's world went black.

* * *

**Kindly leave a review? Also, next chapter is the last. See you then.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm not sure what to say here since I like to at least say something at the end of a story. Just that, thank you, you wonderful reviewers. I sank a lot of personal problems into this, and usually wrote when I was depressed, but writing is one of the few things that make me genuinely happy once I finish something. Thank you for reading this far, but it's time to wrap it up. I haven't written a lengthy fic in awhile, so this feels a little strange. This fic was supposed to be a oneshot, but look how it ended up. **

**Anyway, thank you the ones of you that stuck with me this far. It's time to give N the ending he deserves.**

* * *

When they came for him, when they bent down to him where he was curled into a corner, the spot that had become 'home' of sorts for him, when they touched him, and he lifted his face to meet theirs, N knew it couldn't be real. Their touches were tangible, he could feel her nails, his palms, he could smell the shampoo they bathed with. It couldn't be real. When they spoke, he wanted to cry.

"We're taking you home."

Home. Home was always a dreary sort of term for him when he thought about it. N's 'home' was his room. Or it had been for his entire life anyway. Home was a word that reminded him he was trapped; there was little hope he had. Home meant prison, never a place of love.

White and Black were hope. They looked so much older, but he still recognized them. Honestly, he didn't remember much of what happened after they came to him, but he did remember their faces. Horror, sadness, a tornado of emotions. He remembered White beginning to cry, Black looking away from him, maybe holding back tears of his own. N didn't know.

It hurt to stand. They had to grip his arms on both sides to help him off the floor, letting him lean onto them for support. It was hard work since he was so much taller than either of them, but it helped.

N's memory had been shot after that. There were only bits and pieces of what he remembered. There was one thing, something about the police being involved, but N couldn't remember. Nor did he want to. All he could think of, or tried to think of, was that everything was over. It felt like a dream. He had to continue to pinch himself, he had to grab White's arm, Black's wrist, to make sure they were still there, that he was still awake.

They both turned to him once they were outside of the castle, into the cold of winter, N shivering from what little clothing he was given, and they both clung to him like he would blow away in the wind. He wrapped both arms around them, around their small bodies, and pulled them to him, crying.

Black spoke next. "It's over."

Then White. "He won't hurt you anymore."

N could not speak, even if he wanted to. Everything was so surreal, he still felt he was dreaming and would wake up, back in his father's room, back in the corner he was so used to, back to the way everything had always been.

He wanted to tell them thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. He wanted to pour everything out to them, about what had happened to him, he wanted to tell them please, keep him safe. He didn't care if it was pathetic of him. N had been beaten so low into himself, he didn't care anymore.

So he clung onto them, crying, his mind not comprehending anything else other than everything was finally over, that they had saved him.

He was free.

* * *

Waking up was something strange. When N opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them to stare up at the ceiling, he always noticed first that the room was warm. His blankets smelled nice too. It was a citrus smell that raised him from sleep, but he also associated it with something safe too. A smell to let him know he wasn't dreaming, everything was real, and that he didn't have to worry anymore.

The sun shined in from a window to his left, which made him smile. He wasn't used to windows, and while the brightness irritated his eyes, he welcomed it at the same time.

It had been almost a year since his life had changed, and N still woke up every morning hoping it wasn't just some cruel dream, and that this would be how life would stay from now on. Even though his room was plain, the white walls, his little desk, his closet full of new clothes, a bookshelf, it was still nice and cozy. He didn't miss the clouds on his floor, or the striped walls one bit.

There was freedom in every choice he got to make. When he rose from bed, smoothed out his blanket, dressed himself, and walked out of the room, it felt strange to be this way, to not be trapped and dictated every second, but N welcomed the feeling. Maybe this was wrong, because it couldn't have been real, right?

N's life, every second of every waking moment had been planned, or beaten into him one way or the other. He couldn't let his guard down for anything. If N still had hope left, if he thought he would be saved, free, if he thought anyone would ever care enough about him, if they loved him, then he knew, he knew the feeling of hope would be shattered. His father made every bit sure of that. So maybe this was wrong. Maybe N shouldn't feel happy he got to wake up in his own room, that he got to leave the room when he wanted, that he got to look out the window and see neighbors tending to their yards nearby. Because what if this was still a dream? What if it was ripped away from him? Everything else had been his entire life. It's just what he knew, what had been programmed into him, beaten into him so many god damn times, he knew he would go insane one day.

It made him angry too, but at himself. Angry because...how could daddy do this to him? How could he beat him so, so low that when N was finally out, finally saved, finally, finally, that he still felt this way? That he still felt like Ghetsis would come barging through the door any minute, yelling, screaming at him that he was so stupid and gullible, how could he think this was real? Maybe he'd finally gone insane and was just imagining the entire thing.

N began to shake, stumbling backward onto his bed, his knees knocking together. He wanted to cry, he was so mad. This was real; it was real, real, REAL! But there was still that voice, that fucking voice in the back of his head saying no, it wasn't. Why should it be real? Why should N be saved? Why was his imagination so cruel to him, that it created a fantasy world for him to feel any ounce of love or safety in? Daddy was just going to slam the bedroom door back open, yell at him for not doing something right, and beat it into him that he was there to stay, and there would never be any leaving. Because N never did anything right.

He felt the tears fill his eyes, but he blinked them away, rubbing at his face to try to make them stop. Closing his eyes, he opened them again, the room still white, the closet still there, the window still letting sunshine in. And he hated him; N absolutely hated his father for doing this to him, for still making him terrified. Maybe it hurt more knowing it would never go away. Maybe because N knew he had scarred him more than physically. There would always, always be that tiny voice of doubt in the back of his mind, whispering to him not to get comfortable here, not to have any more hope, because that's how N was programmed to think now. This is what daddy had done to him. He had trained him to think this way, and no matter what happened, N would continue to think this way. He would never feel completely safe. He would never feel completely loved or free.

The smell of food yanked N away from his thoughts. Rising from the bed and exiting through the bedroom door, he made his way downstairs to find Black and White's mother standing over the stove, humming a little as she mashed scrambled eggs with a spatula. It felt a little awkward coming down to this. It's just because even after a year, N was not used to it. He kept to himself mostly. Maybe because in his mind, he'd been trained to be caged, to be locked in a bedroom somewhere and wait. N spent most of his time holed up in his room, like an animal. It was his safe spot, a place he wanted to feel like his father couldn't get to him. But Black and White, their mom, they were more than understanding about it. Never did they force him to do something he didn't want. If N wanted to stay in bed all day, he got to. If he wanted to stay locked in the room, he got to. Whatever he wanted to do, they just smiled, told him okay, and left him to do what he wanted.

Maybe that was wrong too. N felt so lost, even here, in a place of comfort. He was so used to being yelled and screamed at, beaten when he didn't do something right, that being told to do what he wanted wasn't something he fully grasped yet.

The scrambled eggs smelled so good. Mouth watering, N moved to the table and sat down, feeling awkward, but staying silent. Even after a year, he never knew what to call Black and White's mother. She was always 'their mother' or something. She insisted he could call her whatever he wanted, but no, that was wrong.

Still humming her little song, she piled eggs onto a plate for him, not saying anything to him, because he hadn't said anything to her. He was pretty sure Black and White had told her everything, or at least, what they knew. N hadn't even told them everything that had happened. All they knew was that his father beat him and held him prisoner in his bedroom for as long as he could remember. Did they even know he was raped and tortured almost every single day? N didn't know if he was ever going to tell them. It wasn't like it mattered, it wasn't like details mattered. Why should anything matter anymore? He was free, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be happy about that? He was supposed to, but with that influence hanging over him, and the fact that his father was still out there somewhere, rotting away in a prison for probably not very long to begin with, was enough to keep his fear fully intact.

"Hon, would you like a cupcake?"

It took N a second to realize he'd already finished his food, and was stabbing at an empty plate with his fork. He jumped, feeling stupid when he realized he'd zoned out and a bright blue cupcake was being presented to him. "N-no, I'll get fat."

'Their mom' looked a little hurt by his statement, or maybe surprised was more appropriate. Then, "Honey, it doesn't matter if you have sweets every once in a while. They won't make you fat, I promise. I mean, if you eat them every single day without watching how many you're eating, yes, you'll gain a little weight, but I promise you, one every once in a while is nice!" Again, the treat was pushed toward him and, swallowing a little, N picked it up, biting down right on the frosting.

He didn't think he'd ever had a cupcake before. No wait, that was a lie. One of the cooks made him cake for a birthday once, but...it was just that one time. He didn't really care for the cake back then, but he couldn't deny this was delicious. It was moist and not even overly sweet. It was just right.

Smiling, 'their mom' hopped a little next to the table. "So? Was it good? I'm a good cook, aren't I?"

"Yes, it was delicious." N smiled as he finished the rest of the sweet before saying, "Will you teach me to cook one day?"

He might as well have told the woman she'd won a lottery. "Honey, of course I will! Trust me, if you follow my directions, you'll be making mouth-watering dishes in no time! But, it'll have to wait a later time. Black and White wanted to give you a present today, and I'm sure they'll be down for breakfast in a bit."

"A present?"

She smiled, filling two more plates with eggs and setting a cupcake down next to them as well. "That's okay, isn't it, N? I think they wanted to take you to the town up the road and do some shopping. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No." He smiled, the little voice in the back of his head telling him no, no, no, this was too good to be true. "I want to go."

At that moment, 'their mom' bent down to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him so close, he could smell the perfume on her neck. It was lavender. "Honey, you're so sweet, and you know we love you just like a member of our own family. I hope you know I love you like my own, and I hope you call me mom one day."

The only people who'd ever really given him anything close to 'love' were Anthea and Concordia. He didn't even know where they were, but-they were his sisters, his only family, along with daddy. There were never any I love you's, or hugs, or comforting words. It wasn't something he could get used to either. It felt like his chest tightened, like he was being constricted from the inside when he felt tears come to his eyes. But he couldn't cry. Babies cried.

Comfort and love weren't programmed into him. They were always unnecessary. N had always been told what to do, not told he could do what he wanted. It was so ironic. When he was little, he remembered dreaming of escape, of living life on his own, and now that he was finally free, he was so lost about what to do with himself. Maybe that was his own fault. Or maybe it was daddy's. He didn't know.

Hugging onto her, he blinked away his tears, losing himself in the scent of lavender. "I love you too, momma."

* * *

Watching Black and White's morning antics was always amusing to N. They acted like any other stereotypical siblings would: Fighting who would get to use the bathroom first, shoving each other to be the first downstairs, yelling at the other when they wouldn't play fair, scarfing down their breakfast like they were having a contest, and then almost choking on the food, causing their mom to yell at them.

It was like watching a sitcom, with N being in the front row seat. He should've felt creepy all he did was sat there with his chin in his hands and smile, but it was genuinely entertaining to him and made him laugh to see how animated and full of life they were. It was like they never grew up from the time they all rode the ferris wheel together. White was still hyper, and Black was still level-headed. But, he liked seeing them this way. Seeing them the way he had met them, and N was glad they hadn't grown out of it.

"IT'S SPRING!" After finishing her breakfast, White bounced from her seat, throwing a tiny pink purse over her shoulder before moving behind Black, grabbing his shoulders, and moving him back and forth. "Hurry up, slowpoke, the town's gonna get crowded!"

Frowning, Black continued eating as his sister rocked him by his shoulders. "Unlike you, I enjoy chewing my food. You're going to choke one day."

Letting go of her brother, White stood back and crossed her arms. "Ha! I already choke on my food every day, so ha."

Their mom rolled her eyes from her position on the couch, where she and N were seated, watching the weather report. N covered his mouth to muffle his giggles. He really hoped everyday was like this, just laughing at their antics and having a good time. It felt really good to laugh.

After a few more minutes of Black purposely chewing his food slowly to piss off White, she made a loud groan. "DUDE, WILL YOU HURRY? We're supposed to be taking N shopping today."

N perked at the mention of his name before turning around in his seat. "For what though?"

Black nodded, finally finishing his breakfast and putting the plate in the sink, much to White's delight. "Whatever you want, man."

While still turned, N felt something being placed in his palm and whirled around to see their mom putting money in his hands, smiling at him. "You don't have to buy anything if you don't want, but since it's spring, they really wanted to go out with you. I think it might be good for you to walk around. Do you still want to, honey?"

Feeling awkward with everyone staring at him, N chose instead to look at the patterns in the carpet before nodding. "Yes, I still want to go."

"Then let's go!" Without waiting for a response, White was out the door, Black following behind while rolling his eyes, N backing him up.

It was only the start of spring, so the weather was still chilly, but N felt nice and warm in his oversized black coat. The trees were starting to get their leaves again, and flowers were just starting to bloom. In just a short while, N knew the place would be alive with color, and it excited him. He wasn't very...physically able to stand a year ago and look out his window at the color. To him, the entire year flew by. It was supposed to be time for him to heal. Or heal what he could. He didn't remember a lot of it, honestly. Just that he clung to Black and White like they were going to leave him in the middle of the night. Sometimes they would set up sleeping bags in his room and all three of them would sleep together on the floor. Still, N clung to them, because they had saved him. If it weren't for them, he knew without a doubt, he would still be sitting in the corner of his father's room, waiting, just like he'd always done.

"Can I ask you guys something?" They perked at the sound of his voice, the wind blowing suddenly, making all three of them shiver. "How did you find me?"

Black spoke next. "We've told you before, don't you remember?"

Blushing a little, N stared at his feet, shaking his head. "No. I'm sorry." As the wind blew, his damn long hair flew all in his face. It hadn't gotten any less bushy over the past year.

"Well..." White spoke afterward. "We were both at the age where we could travel with pokemon, so while we were on our adventures and battling Team Plasma, we heard them mention you."

N wanted to laugh at that. Mention him? Team Plasma didn't even know him, yet he was supposed to be their 'king'. Even after all this time, he still hated his father for planting those stupid lies into him and making him believe he even had a purpose to begin with.

"And we got to thinking about you more often and why you would be associated with Team Plasma, but we couldn't find any leads until we found the castle. We had Gym Leaders and the police involved and-simply put, we just found you there. We didn't even know you were in the castle from the start."

It sickened him a little that had they not searched the place, he would've never been found.

"And your dad was already wanted in several towns for a few crimes Team Plasma committed. Or at least, they pinned the blame all on him, but yeah."

Why had his father even given two shits about Team Plasma? What exactly had his goal been with them? N didn't know. Or care. They were just servants. Just doing what they were told. He remembered Colress telling him they had given his father 'side projects' to do to try and his mind off of-well him. Obviously, it didn't work. Though, he got a little satisfaction knowing they sold Ghetsis out when it counted. A least a little justice had been served.

"Let's stop talking about this." Black was next to him, patting his back. "It'll only make you depressed."

N nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. We just want to make you happy is all." Black smiled.

It was a little warmer when they reached the town and already, it was bustling with people, something Black got an earful from his sister for. Black rolled his eyes, his silent way of telling her to bite him.

N liked coming to the city. The crowds of people made him feel like he was finally part of the world, of life. There was a whole world of things that happened and went on, and he was finally a person in a crowd.

White was at his side, tugging his arm. "So, what would you like to do?"

There was only a street full of buildings to choose from. N couldn't pick. Clothes? A movie? Get more sweets? A bookstore? It made him nervous being asked to pick, especially when there was too much to choose from, but Black and White waited patiently for him to come up with something.

When the wind blew, making his hair fly all in his face again, N knew his answer.

"The barber?" Black and White looked at each other, before back at him, making his face go red again.

"I'm sorry. Is that...okay?"

"Yeah, it's just." White tilted her head, squinting her eyes at him like she was studying him. "You want it all gone? You've had long hair ever since we met you. Why cut it all off now?"

"I never wanted long hair. I've just had it for so long, I forgot I have a choice to get rid of it now." He stared at his shoes. "Ghetsis made me grow it out. I've always wanted to cut it."

Black shrugged. "It's your hair, dude, you can shave yourself bald. Do whatever you want."

N laughed nervously. "I was thinking of getting it cut to my shoulders. It's sort of curly in some places, so it'll curl up by itself and-I mean, would that be okay?"

White shrugged too. "If you want it short, then let's go. It'll grow back if you ever want it long again. I mean, it'll take a while, but I think you'd look cute with short hair."

Blushing, N nodded. "Th-thank you."

* * *

N had never been to a salon before. Getting his hair washed and his head massaged and finally cutting off all that annoying hair was a very relaxing experience. It felt a little awkward at first, as all new things are, but once he saw himself in the mirror, all of it gone, finally gone, he couldn't stop smiling.

He looked older, cleaner, and it felt a lot better going outside with the wind blowing and not have a waterfall of hair slapping him in the face.

Black and White both looked surprised, probably not expecting his short hair to look good on him. It curled in the right spots, framing his face nicely. Walking down the street with them was a more pleasant experience since he was smiling so much. His smile was contagious. Pretty soon, Black and White were smiling and all three of them were generally just having a good time enjoying each other's company.

Then N felt a tap on his shoulder, followed by a familiar voice. "I almost didn't recognize you without your luscious mane, my lord."

The weight of a train fell into his stomach, almost making him vomit when N turned to see Colress, making him latch onto Black and White like they would save him. What the-the _fuck_ was he doing here? How did he even find him? A million questions ran through N's head. Why, why was he here? How could he be here? Wasn't he arrested with the rest of Team Plasma? Was he here to take him away-?

"You don't appear very pleased to see me. It's understandable, but I assure you I mean no harm."

Black and White had shifted until they were partially in front of N, like a shield. "Who are you?"

Without answering, Colress crossed his arms. "I wish to speak to N alone. That's all I want to do is talk. And if Super Man and Wonder Woman feel like he's in danger, then by all means, attack me in public. I just want to tell him something." Even though he hadn't seen him in years, N still felt hatred toward him, as much hatred as he felt for his father. Colress was just as guilty for what happened to him as his father was. Maybe he was even worse. Because he knew what was happening, he _knew_ everything, but he chose not to help N. He chose instead to try to make excuses for Ghetsis, to try to 'help' him. Even when N got on his hands and knees and begged him, Colress denied it.

N's anger was not left out of his voice. "Whatever you have to say, you're going to say it right here, because I'm not going anywhere alone with you, and if you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself with a knife."

Colress didn't appear fazed by N's threat, he just chuckled like he was amused. "Well you've certainly grown up, but fine, fine. I'll do it your way." After straightening his coat and sighing, Colress spoke again. "I was traveling around the world, doing research on pokemon, trying to make a living as a doctor after the police came and stormed the castle. I was able to escape the hustle and bustle and I've been innocently studying pokemon since then. That's not a crime, right? But I found your sisters in a city miles away from here and got to chatting with them, and they mentioned an interesting piece of information I thought was worth tracking you down and sharing with you for."

Still angry, still a little afraid for what Colress might do, N spoke. "And what would that be?"

"Your father is dead, N."

The weight of the train was back in his stomach, pushing down, suffocating him, but N was motionless, staring up at Colress like he was insane, not even being able to form a response. How-?

"He killed himself in prison. I guess being alone was too much for him to handle. He was already mentally ill. You know that, N. Without you, he snapped."

Black and White were silent next to him, each one holding onto one of his arms, waiting for him to make a move.

But N was still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he let them fall. Why was he crying though? This...this should have been-maybe not _good_ news, but. This should have made him feel better he didn't have to worry about his daddy anymore. That he was completely free, that he didn't have to worry about him getting out of prison and coming to find him again.

"Oh."

But it was overwhelming. When he thought back on what had happened. When he was little, playing with toys, when daddy would tear the toys up, because toys were for babies, when he made him pump him in the middle of the night until he orgasmed, when he held him down onto the bed and raped him over and over, until N was screaming and begging him to stop, that he loved him over and over, when he tied him up, when he put tape over him, ripping it off and kissing the red marks until they burned, when he fucking tortured him until N was trained to think a certain way, when-all of this. Everything. Everything N had been through, to finally, finally be free now, living with a family who loved him, even though he wasn't related to them. They used to be complete strangers, but they took him in. Momma loved him like her own. Black and White were like siblings to him. He was finally free from his daddy, to find out he was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

N cried, sinking to the ground on the sidewalk, holding his face into his hands and sobbed. Black and White sank with him, hugging onto him, telling him it would be okay, he was okay. They loved him.

Colress left at one point, but N still cried, still seated on the sidewalk, people stared at the three in the middle of the sidewalk, but they were ignored.

All N could think of was it was over. Finally over. Even though it would take a long time before he could function normally again, he could at least rest easy at night knowing his father wasn't going to come and lock him up again. He was gone. N was-he didn't know how to explain it. The overwhelming emotions hurt him, to the pit of his stomach, he felt a feeling like he would vomit, but at the same time he wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry tears of joy, hug onto Black and White until nightfall, and hug them so they would never let him go. They saved him after all.

Still hugging him while he was sobbing, Black spoke. "We love you, N. Stay with us as long as you want. You're family."

Still crying, N clung to them. "I love you guys too. Thank you."

**End**


End file.
